


as the world caves in

by flirtytae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bonding over trauma, Canon Compliant, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Multi, Not Epilogue Compliant, Oblivious Harry Potter, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Running Away, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27977838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flirtytae/pseuds/flirtytae
Summary: After the war, Harry Potter works on restoring the Hogwarts castle. He needs to do something, and to think. But as time passes, he realizes that there's one thing he needs to do: run away. So that's exactly what he does. He runs away to muggle London to live the youth he has been craving for months. But one night at a club and a drunken conversation with an old nemesis might just end up turning his world upside down.TW: mentions of past abuse, troubled eating, suicidal thoughts, self harm, none of which are graphically described. descriptions of dissociation/derealization episodes/panic attacks.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Millicent Bulstrode/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40





	1. the trials

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is not too eventful but it sets the story a bit. Everything will truly start in the next one. I hope you enjoy<3

Just like people, the sun rises in the morning and sleeps at night. That’s how life goes. An endless circle, always doing the same thing, over and over. Everyday. Nothing changes. That’s how Harry Potter had been feeling for the three weeks. Three weeks since the war ended. Since he killed Voldemort. He always thought that everything would be alright after that – he was wrong.

Ever since he had left Hogwarts after the final battle, Harry felt like nothing had meaning anymore. He had been raised – no, used – for the past seven years as a toy. An object. A weapon. He had been raised to be a weapon of war and now that it was over, what was he supposed to do? He didn’t know anything else. Destroying the horcruxes, killing Voldemort. That’s all he had been thinking about for a year and a half. And now it was done. What was he supposed to do with himself? Who even was he?

His nights consisted of night terrors, waking up in a cold sweat, insomnia, falling asleep again, and repeat. His days consisted of this sad, mourning face staring back at him in the mirror. Harry was staying at Hogwarts during the reconstruction. Professor McGonagall had told him to stay with the Weasleys, to take care of that later, to get some time off. But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to stay with the family who mourned over their dead son, or brother, or twin. He needed to stay occupied. Or else he would go down in a spiral of self-hatred and guilt. So, everyday, he woke up, forced himself to eat something, and worked. He worked on restoring the castle, on giving it back its grandeur until he couldn’t feel his body anymore. Then, he would force himself to eat something again, and go back to sleep in the temporary dorm Professor McGonagall had set up on the grounds. It was sad. But it was all he could bring himself to do. He had to feel useful. Everyday, the few people who decided to stay at the castle to work on the restorations looked at him with admiration, and it only made him want to bury himself underground. What was there to admire? He didn’t save the world because he was brave. He saved the world because it was the thing he had been programmed to do since he had first gotten there when he was an 11-year-old child.

***

On the morning of May 25th 1998, Harry got up for yet another day of working on fixing the castle. His muscles felt sore and he had barely gotten any sleep, but he needed to do this. He got under the freezing cold shower, scrubbed his skin until it was almost painful, cast a drying spell on himself, got dressed, and went down to the Great Hall to get something to eat.

Everyone was up already, but “everyone” wasn’t a lot. The few people who had decided to stay were McGonagall, Hagrid, Flitwick, Lisa Turpin – a seventh year Ravenclaw he had never talked to –, Anthony Goldstein, Ernie McMillan, and him. Some other people would come by to help during the day, mostly professionals sent by the Ministry and volunteers from all over the country, but they were the only ones permanently staying at Hogwarts. Either because they wanted to help, or because they didn’t have any family to go home to. The only times Harry had left the castle during the past few weeks was to go to funerals.

The Great Hall had been the first place, along with the entrance, to be fixed. It looked almost brand new. The fake sky was a clear blue, with no clouds in sight, sunlight filtering into the room. It was beautiful. Clearly Professor McGonagall’s work.

Harry was taken out of his daydreaming when a Barn Owl landed in front of him on the table, a letter in its beak. The raven haired boy took it, thanked the owl quietly as it flew away, and stared at it. It was from the Ministry.

_The trial dates._

Harry had been contacted by Kingsley Shacklebolt – now acting Minister for Magic – two days prior, informing him that the few remaining Death Eaters who hadn’t died or been arrested right after the Battle had all been caught, and that he would inform him of the dates for the trials in the week. This was quick, Harry thought.

The boy was so lost in thought he hadn’t even heard McGonagall, Flitwick and Hagrid approaching him. He had informed them of Kingsley’s previous letter, so they figured out what this one was.

“The trial dates?” McGonagall murmured.

Harry nodded, swallowing nervously. His hands were trembling. He didn’t know why he was so anxious about this, he knew it was coming, he had told the Ministry he wanted to testify at the trials of all of the marked Death Eaters. He quickly opened the letter, wanting to get it over with.

“Dear Mr. Potter,

As I informed you a few days ago, the remaining Death Eaters have been caught and are awaiting trial. We have no time to lose so the trials for all of those with the Dark Mark will take place during the week. We expect most of them won’t take too much time.

The trial for the Carrows will take place on May 27th at 9am, followed by Rookwood’s at 2pm, and Avery’s at 5pm.

On May 28th, Crabbe’s will be at 9am, Yaxley’s at 2pm and Goyle’s at 5pm.

The Malfoys’ will be on May 29th, starting 9am.

On May 30th, Greyback’s will be at 9am, Jugson’s at 2pm, and Mulciber’s at 5pm.

On April 1st, Nott’s will be at 9am, and the Lestrange brothers’ at 2pm.

On April 2nd, Selwyn’s will be at 9am, Rowle’s at 2pm, and Macnair’s at 5pm.

This will be an intense week but I hope you will be able to testify at each one. Please owl me back to confirm your presence.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, acting Minister for Magic.”

Harry sighed, running a hand through his already very messy hair. He jotted down the dates on a planner. This was going to be hard. Professor McGonagall put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do it, you know, Potter. No one would blame you.”

The raven haired boy chuckled humourlessly. Of course he had to. That’s what everyone was expecting of him. He had to do it. He wanted to do it, anyway.

“It’s fine, professor. I’ll do it. It’s just a week.”

Hagrid patted his back, probably in a comforting manner, but it almost made Harry fall face first into his plate. The three professors wished him good luck before turning back to the few other students, announcing they would be finishing the renovations in Gryffindor Tower. So far, they had entirely finished renovating the dungeons, the ground floor, the Great Hall, and the Quidditch Pitch. They had also gotten started on most of the staircases and hallways. Hagrid had renovated his hut on his own, it was a bit wonky but looked quite alright.

So during the entire day, the students, professors, as well as the Ministry employees and some volunteers who arrived later in the morning worked on renovating Gryffindor Tower. It was really hard, they had to be careful as to not cause anything to collapse, and had to seal every stone with complicated spells. But they had already been working on it for a few days and as the sun started setting, they finished their work on the tower. Harry was bit emotional as they placed the last rock. This tower had been his home for years, and seeing it looking good as new again almost brought tears to his eyes.

“Nice work today, right, Harry?” Said Ernie McMillan as he approached him, a proud smile on his face.

“Yeah, great work Ernie. Still a lot to go though.”

Talking to his classmates was the last thing Harry wanted to do, but Ernie had lost a lot too, protected him, and he didn’t want to be rude to him. He didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of Harry’s frustration, grief, anger and trauma.

As Harry was about to call it a night and go back to his dorm without eating dinner, an employee from the Ministry went up to him, a neutral look on his face.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter. The Minister has asked me to inform you that he has booked a room for you at the Leaky Cauldron. He thinks it would be easier for you to stay there instead of travelling everyday for the trials.”

“Oh, uh, thank you, sir.”

The raven-haired boy nodded curtly at him before leaving, walking fast towards his dorm. He just wanted to lay down and take the time to mentally prepare himself for what was going to unfold over the next few days.

***

On the morning of May 27th, Harry was awoken by the sound of someone loudly knocking on his door. He grabbed his glasses from his nightstand and pushed them onto his nose. He looked around for a few seconds, confused, before remembering he was at the Leaky Cauldron. And he was going to be at the Ministry, in front of Death Eaters, in less than 3 hours.

_Fuck._

“Who’s here?” He said as he opened the door. He didn’t get the time to get a response before a mass of curls tackled him into a hug. He smiled slightly, immediately recognizing the familiar embrace of Hermione Granger, his best friend.

“Hey, ‘Mione, I didn’t know you would be coming!”

“Oh, Harry, I just couldn’t imagine letting you deal with this alone. And I missed you. Ron is going to join us in a bit later, getting up before 8am isn’t really his thing.”

Harry smiled at her as she let go of him and invited her inside his room. It was big, bigger than the Gryffindor common room and his old dorm combined. It felt too big for him, but he guessed the Saviour-Of-The-Entire-World would have to get used to it. Even though he really didn’t want to. He hated seeing the looks of admiration he was getting all the time by Ministry employees and volunteers at Hogwarts, he hated the attention, and he hated being treated like some incredible being. He didn’t deserve it. He felt like an impostor.

“No offence, Harry, but you look terrible. Have you been sleeping well?” Hermione asked as she looked at him, her forehead creasing with worry. Bold of her to say that considering her dark circles were bigger than most of the stones Harry spent his days fixing at Hogwarts.

“I’m fine. Just… Nightmares, you know.”

She nodded slightly and patted his cheek gently, in an almost motherly manner. Harry knew she was worried about him but he hated it. He didn’t want anyone’s pity. Not after all the hurt he had caused them. Hermione had erased her parents’ memories for Merlin's sake. Ron had lost his brother. Mrs. Weasley had lost her son. His godson had lost his father. He hated that everyone treated him like a hero or a baby when he was the reason for their suffering.

But he didn’t say anything. He shut his mouth, just as he had for the past weeks. He bottled up his feelings, and ignored them. He didn’t have the right to complain. Not after all they had sacrificed to help him.

“Mrs. Weasley misses you, you know. Everyone does.”

“I know, she asked me to come back during Fred’s funeral…” He had to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat as he had said Fred’s name. “I’m not ready to go back to the Burrow. And it’s nice staying at Hogwarts. I feel… Useful. I’m helping, it’s good enough for me.”

“Don’t you think you’ve been helpful enough? You should take a break, Harry. Let others take care of you, for once. You’ve been through-”

He cut her off with a wave of his hand.

“Please, Hermione… Don’t. I can’t go back for now. I can’t. I’m sorry. I miss you too, but I can’t.”

Harry’s best friend gave him a sad smile, but she didn’t push it. She knew she couldn’t make him change his decision, and she had to respect it, even if she didn’t like it. So she changed the subject instead.

The two friends sat on the sofa in Harry’s room and talked about the reparations of Hogwarts. Harry explained it all to her, happy to talk about something other than dead people and all of that nice stuff.

At around 8am, his door opened and Ron peaked his head inside, a small smile on his lips. He was clearly very tired and looked skinnier than usual. Harry got up and Ron pulled him into a fierce hug, not saying anything. He didn’t need to.

Barely a few minutes later, after they had talked about trivial things such as what Ron had eaten that morning, Harry went to the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror and barely recognized the person staring back at him. He sighed and got dressed in simple but fancy robes that Mrs. Weasley had sent him for the trials.  
After combing through his hair – which was, as always, unnecessary – he went back to the room and the three friends apparated to the Ministry. The security was reinforced, there were guards everywhere and everyone was controlled with very expensive looking objects in case some of Voldemort’s fanclub members wanted to get revenge for their master. Harry and his friends, who had been nicknamed the “Golden Trio” by the Prophet, walked to the Department of Mysteries, where the trials were to take place, and Harry stepped inside, not sure if he was ready to testify, but telling himself it was going to be fine.

***

That day, and the next, went by in a blur. Harry testified, as did a few other people, and the newly appointed Wizenmagot didn’t even have to deliberate before sending the Carrows, Rookwood, Avery, Crabbe, Yaxley and Goyle in Azkaban for life. Every trial took around an hour or two but each of them felt like ten hours to Harry. He was exhausted, and seeing the faces of these terrible people who had hurt him and tried to kill him so many times made him want to jump off the astronomy tower. But it was alright. It was going to be over soon and everything would go back to normal.

However, when Harry woke up on May 29th, he knew these weren’t going to be like the others. It was the Malfoys’ trials, he had no idea what to do about Lucius, who he knew had wanted to leave Voldemort’s side, and he wasn’t ready to face Draco.

Harry got himself out of bed at 7am and went to the shower, setting the water at a freezing temperature, as he did these days. He just wanted to feel something. Something other than numbness.

At around 8:30am, he apparated to the Ministry – apparating without a licence wasn’t really frowned upon when you were the Saviour-Of-The-Entire-World – and went to the Department of Mysteries, as he had the two prior days. He knew Lucius, his crimes being the worst, was the first, then was Draco, and finally Narcissa.

He arrived to the biggest courtroom of the Department, where all the important trials took place, and took his seat at the front row, where the people who testified all sat. Luna was there, and so was Mr. Ollivander. _Of course_ , Harry thought, _they’re the only people who were held captive at the Manor and lived long enough to tell the tale_. He nodded at them, and Ollivander nodded back as Luna replied with a dreamy smile.

A few moments later, the doors opened and two Aurors accompanied Lucius to the seat in the middle of the room, chains immediately circling his wrists and ankles. And after the charges were announced, and Lucius defended himself, Harry was called to the stand. He presented himself automatically, his thoughts feeling a bit hazy, before beginning his testimony. Another advantage of being the Saviour-Of-The-Entire-World was that people let him tell his story without interrupting him with questions all the time like they did with other witnesses.

“I’ve known Lucius Malfoy for several years. I’ve never seen him express any type of empathy towards me, or Voldemort’s victims, or regret of his decision of joining the dark side until Voldemort took residency at his Manor. He has tried to kill me countless times ever since I was 12 and tried to sell me to Voldemort when I was caught by Snatchers and brought to his Manor a couple of months ago. However, I do believe him when he says he regrets his actions. He didn’t fight during the Battle of Hogwarts, and I also believe him when he says he had been wanting to leave Voldemort’s side for months. But this doesn’t change all of the actions he has done over the years. That’s all I have to say. Thank you.”

Harry bowed to the Wizenmagot before rejoining his seat next to Luna and watched the rest of the trial without really paying attention to anything that was said. He was there, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about Narcissa, who had saved his life. And Draco, who lowered his wand before Dumbledore was killed, who recognized him when he was taken to the Manor by the Snatchers but didn’t say anything, who was trembling and hurting when he was forced to torture people in Harry’s visions. Draco, who had been raised to become the perfect Death Eater since birth, but had become a shadow of the person he used to be after receiving the Mark.

Harry was only snapped out of his trance when the Wizenmagot announced a verdict: 15 years of imprisonment in Azkaban. It was much less than the others. If Lucius survived it.

After that, since it was nearing noon, everyone left for a break until Draco’s trial, which started at 2pm. Harry was so nervous for this one he wanted to vomit. Draco might have been Harry’s school nemesis, but he wasn’t a murderer. He wasn’t like the others, and he didn’t deserve to go to Azkaban. The raven-haired boy knew it was unlikely the blonde would be sent to jail, but still. He was nervous.

Harry was so lost in thought he ran into someone who was walking towards him in the long hallway leading to the courtroom.

“Harry, be careful!”

He was about to apologize grumpily before recognizing a voice which belonged to none other than Ginny Weasley. Was she still his girlfriend? Harry didn’t know, probably not, but he was glad to see her.

“Oh, Ginny, hi, sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“Hi.”

He looked at her and she smiled gently at him. He had daydreamed about seeing that smile and those beautiful eyes again for weeks, months when he was on the search for the horcruxes, but now he wasn’t sure how to feel about this. About them and what they used to be. About her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I just thought you’d like some company before Malfoy’s trial. This can’t be easy for you…”

“Yeah, it sucks. But I’m tired of talking about me all the time – how are you?”

She linked her arm through his and began walking to the elevator.

“Could be better. I’m… Trying to keep it together. It’s hard at home, I don’t blame you for not coming with us. It used to be so cheery all the time and now not a day goes by without someone pronouncing his name and bursting into tears. But it’s going to be alright, we just have to – put on a brave face and… Go on with our lives. For him.” Ginny’s voice cracked at these words but she quickly regained her composure, as she always did. She never let anyone see her cry. Ever.

“I’m sorry.” Harry whispered as the elevator stopped on the atrium floor. They stepped out and made their way to the apparition points.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. But enough about this, I’m taking you out to eat. You look like you haven’t eaten in weeks, Harry.”

Lunch with Ginny was – surprisingly good, and not awkward at all. They talked as they always had, and everything was just so platonic. Harry didn’t know what to think about the situation, but he didn’t mind. He really loved Ginny, even though he didn’t know in which way, and she always made him feel better. Her presence soothed him.

After they finished eating, they hugged goodbye and Ginny apparated to the Burrow as Harry apparated back to the Ministry. Facing Draco Malfoy again wasn’t going to be easy after all the… history they had. But enemies or not, Harry was going to do everything he could to get Draco’s charges dropped.

The young man walked to the courtroom, ignoring the stares and waves from everyone around him, as he always did. Did these people really think he wanted any kind of attention on him after all these years of being on the front page of the Prophet?

Just like this morning, he was right on time and took his usual seat at the first row. A few minutes passes and Draco was brought in by two Aurors, like his father. His was so pale and thin his skin looked grey, almost transparent. He sat in the chair and the chains didn’t surround him. This was a good sign. It meant they knew he wasn’t dangerous. Harry listened attentively as the charges of torture and working for the Dark Lord were announced, and as Draco defended himself. He was then called to the stand. His green eyes locked with Draco’s grey ones and he felt his throat dry up.

“I’ve known Draco Malfoy since I was 11 years old. Him and I were never friendly, but if there’s one thing I know about him, it’s that he’s not a murderer. Two years ago, he was given the task of killing Albus Dumbledore. And last year, as he and Headmaster Dumbledore were alone – or as they thought – on top of the Astronomy Tower, Draco lowered his wand. He didn’t want to kill him, and didn’t. He was and still is a child. He’s a child who was raised to be Voldemort’s perfect servant. But after he received the mark, I saw him change, withdrawing from everything he liked doing – like annoying me and playing Quidditch. Two months ago, when I was brought to the Malfoy Manor by Snatchers, Lucius Malfoy asked his son to identify me. I had received a Stinging Jinx, but my scar was still visible. And I know Draco recognized me. I could see it. But he didn't say anything, and that made us gain time. He saved my life, consciously or not. I saw how afraid he was of Voldemort and I have absolutely no doubt in my mind when I saw he’s not a dangerous person and has learned from his mistakes. He was a child who made the wrong choices under the influence of his Death Eater father. Thank you.”

Harry felt Draco’s stare on his neck as he regained his seat and didn’t dare look back at him. A few other people – Draco’s Slytherin friends – testified in his favour and, thankfully, the charges were dropped, the Wizenmagot stating he was too young to go against his family and had been manipulated since birth. Harry didn’t look at him as Draco left the courtroom and only raised his head when Narcissa Malfoy was brought in right after. In his testimony, he told the Wizenmagot all about how she saved his life in the forest that night three weeks ago, silently thanked her and left the courtroom after her charges were dropped as well. He just wanted to sleep for at least a week.

When he finally went back to his room at the Leaky Cauldron, he collapsed on his bed and for the first time in months, his dreams were filled with grey eyes instead of red ones.


	2. paris

It was now the middle of July and the r econstructions at Hogwarts were done. Harry had been living there for over 2 months, doing everything he could to avoid his friends and the outside world. He knew it wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t bring himself to visit them. He had needed this alone time. But now that it was done… He didn’t really know what to do with himself.

So he did what he had been dreaming of doing ever since Voldemort came back to life: he fled.

Right after McGonagall congratulated everyone for all of their hard work, Harry went to his dorm, packed the few stuff he had, and left without telling anyone. It was selfish, he knew that.  His friends would probably be worried sick. But over the past couple of months, he had realized that he had been living for others for so long, and he wanted to do at least one thing for himself. He needed to be alone, to live a normal life, at least for a few w eeks .

He shrunk his backpack, put it in his pocket, left the Hogwarts grounds  without telling anyone and apparated to one of the apparition points in London. Hiding in plain sight, right? That was the idea  for now . He went to Gringotts, took a good portion of gold,  exchanged most of it for muggle money,  sent an owl to the Burrow to tell them he was fine and to not go looking for him,  and went to a nice muggle hotel far away from any wizarding streets.

T he young man booked a room for a week. He didn’t plan on staying in London that long, but he didn’t know where to go just yet. He wasn’t going to plan anything but he still wanted to gather his thoughts before leaving the country. It might’ ve seemed a bit… Radical, but he didn’t want to stay in England. He wanted to go to France, Italy, Sweden, Greece. H e wanted to do everything he’d never had the opportunity to do.

A s he settled in his room, Harry thought about what he wanted to do that day. It was already a bit late, already 5pm, so he would probably get some rest and maybe go out. He’d never gone to a club, and it should be fun. Maybe he would finally forget about all of his troubles, at least for a night.  But before that, he needed a new outfit.

***

That night, Harry walked to the nearest club he could find. It seemed nice enough, and he didn’t really care anyway. He wanted to do something reckless, without thinking about it, without wondering if it would put his life at risk. He wanted so desperately to live.

The muggle music was blaring through the speakers, and Harry didn’t know any of the songs, but he didn’t care. He went to the bar and had drink after drink, shot after shot, he wasn’t used to it and half an hour later he was already a s drunk as most of the people in the club . The man then went inside the crowd of people and danced, letting himself get carried by the music, not caring that he didn’t know how to dance, that the club was so packed he was almost grinding on the other people near him, or that some girl was looking at him flirtatiously. He didn’t care about anything.

A ll thoughts of the war, Voldemort, his abusive childhood, his friends who seemed to expect him to be fine, all the people he had lost, the death he had seen had all left Harry’s mind for the very first time in months and he had never felt this  _good_ .

“Well, well, well. I didn’t think I’d see our precious Saviour here tonight.”

Harry quickly turned around  as he heard someone say this in his ear  and his breathing stopped when he was met with a pale face, platinum blonde hair, and those grey eyes.

“Malfoy? What the fuck are you doing here?” He yelled, not caring that he was probably doing a lot of harm to Draco’s eardrums.

“I could ask you the same question, Potter.” He noticed Malfoy was slurring his words, and judging by the smell of cheap alcohol coming from him, he was probably not too sober either.

“I’m having fun for once. Is that a problem?”

Malfoy replied to this with a smirk, and if Harry hadn’t been so drunk  at that moment , he probably would’ve noticed it didn’t look the  way it used to , it was forced, emotionless, reflecting how D raco was feeling inside. But Harry didn’t notice, and if the blonde had been in the state to think coherently, he would’ve been thankful for that.

“Come with me.” Harry grabbed Malfoy’s arm, dragging him out of the club and completely ignoring the other man’s protests. He didn’t care if he was doing something stupid anyway.

“Potter, for Merlin’s sake, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to kidnap me?”

“Oh fuck off. I just want to talk.”

“Is that code for kidnapping me?”

Harry snorted and once they were out of the club, he dragged him to a bench nearby and sat him down. D raco looked at him, eyebrows raised and an amused smile on his lips. Harry sat next to him. He really was going to regret this.

“Are you planning on telling me what you were doing in a muggle club now?” Harry asked.

“Oh yeah, Potter, I am just dying to tell you all about my life.” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Since you seem so curious about me, dear Saviour, I am having what my mother calls a rebellious teenage phase, which consists of getting drunk every night, going to muggle clubs, smoking too many cigarettes, and having sex with men I’ve never met.”

“You’re gay?!”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him.

“Am I gay? Potter, have you seen me? Of course I’m fucking gay.”

Harry burst out laughing and took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. D raco looked at him, seemingly surprised.

“If only the Prophet knew their dear Saint Potter smoked. They would have a field day.”

“Shut up, Malfoy, it’s just cigarettes. I’m not on drugs or some shit. Just a nasty habit I picked up while trying to save all of your asses.”

Malfoy chuckled, shaking his head. If someone had told Harry a year ago that he would one day be sitting with  Draco  Malfoy on a bench in muggle London, completely drunk, and joking around… What even was happening?  He was going to have to punch himself in the face for this tomorrow. But whatever. He said he wanted to life like a normal boy his age for the night, and normal boys his age didn’t have feuds with their old classmate who had sympathized with their parents’ murderer.

“Are you going mad, Potter? Should I call St Mungos?” Malfoy said mockingly. He was trying to keep his cool but Harry could see he was just as drunk as he was.

“I should be the one calling the Healers on you, Malfoy, you’re the muggle hater, not me!”

“Muggle hater? How original. If you must know, I’m actually quite the sympathizer now. Who knew their alcohol was so much better than ours?”

H arry giggled – straight up giggled – at D raco’s words. Merlin, maybe he  _was_ going mad.

***

The next morning, Harry was woken up by the sunlight. He groaned, silently cursing himself for not closing the blinds the night before. He sat up on his bed, rubbing at his eyes. His head was hurting like crazy. He opened his eyes and looked around the room.

Wait. That didn’t look like his hotel room.  And why were there two beds?

He quickly got up, ignoring his headache. He was panicking. What the hell had happened last night? Where was he?  At least he still had his clothes on.  Harry looked around the room, and saw his backpack lying on the ground. What the hell? Why was his stuff there? Did he get back to his hotel room before going to this unknown location? This didn’t make any sense.

He took out his wand from his sock and, just as he was about to cast a locating spell, he was startled a s the door to what seemed to be the bathroom opened, a seemingly pissed off Draco Malfoy coming out of it.

“What the f-”

“I take it you don’t remember what happened last night either. If you were wondering, we’re in Paris. I checked. I don’t know how the fuck we ended up here, and I didn’t kidnap you, if you were wondering. I suggest we go back to London and forget this ever happened.”

T he blonde put his shoes on and was about to put on his jacket and walk out when Harry finally snapped out of his trance.

“Wait.”

Malfoy stopped in his tracks but didn’t look at Harry.

“I was planning on taking a trip around Europe. Why don’t you stay? You look like you need a break.”

Malfoy looked up at him, frowning.

“What are you talking about, Potter? You despise me.”

“I don’t despise you, Malfoy, stop being such a drama queen. I wouldn’t have saved your ass during your trial if I despised you. You saved my life.”

“I tried to kill you more times than I saved you.”

“You wouldn’t have killed me.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds and Draco dropped his jacket. He went to sit on the bed opposite of Harry.

“You don’t know that. You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“I may not know you well, but after being targeted by your daddy’s friends for years, I think I can recognize a murderer when I see one. And you’re not one. And I’m not asking you to stay with me, just… I want to have fun. And considering the state I found you in yesterday, I think you do too.”

Harry watched as his nemesis buried his face in his hands, he was trying to hide his vulnerability, but the raven haired boy could see right through him.

“Well I have been wanting to travel for a while.” Draco said quietly.

Harry’s lips curved up into a small smile. He had no clue what he was doing or why he had asked Draco t o stay in Paris but he knew in his heart it was right. He’d had a lot of time to think while at Hogwarts, and one of the many things he had realized during this time was this: he  wanted to fix things with Draco Malfoy.  He didn’t necessarily want to become friends with him, but he wanted them to be civil.

“I’ll stay. For a week. I’m going to the lobby to take a separate room.”

H arry nodded and laid back down on his bed, his head still pounding terribly. Draco gave him a strange look before grabbing his stuff and leaving the room.

Now that he was alone, the raven-haired boy had time to think about what exactly had happened the previous night. He remembered meeting Malfoy at a club, dragging him out in the streets, talking, joking around, smoking cigarettes.  They hadn’t really talked about serious stuff, just about Malfoy rebelling against the family traditions and Harry basically running away from the wizarding world. They didn’t talk about the reasons why, but the Saviour remembered how good it felt to tell someone this without feeling guilty.  He didn’t remember why they decided to go to Paris; but he remembered disapparating with Malfoy and walking into this hotel at  around  2am.

The man sighed deeply. Getting into odd situations really was his speciality.  But life was too short to overthink things and reject possible redemptions.  However, right now, he just wanted to sleep.

***

W hen Harry woke up again for the second time that day, it was already 6pm. Drinking really wasn’t good for his already fucked up sleeping schedule. He heard someone knocking on his door, a nd realized this was what must’ve woken him up. He quickly got up and opened the hotel room door, being met with a dressed up Draco.

“Damn, Malfoy, are you taking me out on a date or something?”

The blonde rolled his eyes and brushed past Harry, entering the hotel room.

“Don’t be stupid, Potter.”

“But it’s my thing.”

Draco chuckled and sat down a t the desk across Harry’s bed.

“I’m going out to eat. Unlike you, I don’t fancy staying in bed all day and I need to eat to function. I don’t know if the Boy Who Lived’s body works differently but mine needs some food, or else I’ll die.”

“Merlin, are you always this dramatic?”

“But it’s my thing.” Draco replied, mocking Harry’s tone.

Harry snorted and got back onto his bed. This was surreal. Draco Malfoy seating in his hotel room, in Paris, after a drunk night out. If someone had told Harry this a year ago, he would’ve probably hexed them.

“So, are you coming or were you just planning on using your time travelling to sleep?”

“Coming.”

***

The two men had been in Paris for  four days and things were going much better than expected. Every night, they went out and got so drunk and high they couldn’t remember their names, got back to the hotel and slept until at least 3 in the afternoon. It wasn’t healthy, they both kn e w it, but they couldn’t care less. Harry had never felt so alive.  He still had night terrors, and woke up crying, and pretended  he had eaten while Malfoy was in his room  when really he barely ate anything at all, but at night, when they were dancing, he felt so good. So alive.

They didn’t talk much. They didn’t spend that much time together, really, both knowing the hard conversation that would have to happen if they got closer. None of them were ready for that, and it was okay. They  went out together to clubs, but danced with other people,  kissed other people . Well,  Malfoy usually did more than just kiss them . But Harry didn’t r eally care .  They did their own thing, and sometimes they m ade small talk , and it was n ice . They both liked it that way.

T he previous day , Harry had received a letter from Hermione and Ron telling him to keep them updated so they wouldn’t worry too much but the man had ignored it. He had told him he was fine, why did they have to act like he was some child who needed to be looked after? He was almost 18. And he was feeling  _great_ .

T h at fourth night in Paris, Harry a nd Draco arrived at a club. A gay club. Merlin, Harry didn’t really know if he wanted to be there. He wasn’t even gay. Or, well, maybe he was, he didn’t know, he didn’t exactly have the time to question his sexuality while in school. He had more important things on his mind, like wondering how he was going to murder the most powerful dark wizard of all time.

“I’m tired of having girls try to grind on me.” Was the only explanation Malfoy had offered when Harry had asked him why he wanted to go to a gay club, but the smirk on his face made the Saviour think there was more to it.

Malfoy really looked like he was in his element when they walked in, and Harry wondered how he managed to always look so confident. He knew it was probably a facade, but still, he wished he could be more like him.

“I’m paying for drinks tonight.” Draco said as he dragged Harry to the bar.

“Nice.”

Both men sat down at the bar and ordered their drinks. Being a wizard really had its perks, Harry still being a minor in front of the muggle law, whenever a  bartender would ask them for ID, they just had to cast a wandless confusion charm. Draco had said they should do that to get free drinks, but Harry had too much conscience for that.

As the minutes went by, the alcohol flowed, and barely an hour after arriving at the club, both men were completely plastered. They were telling each other anecdotes about their years at Hogwarts and  roaring with laughter.

“No, I swear!” Draco exclaimed as Harry was laughing like crazy. “I was looking for Pansy, my freaking Yule Ball date, and found her making out with Daphne outside in the bushes! I was so mad!”

“Malfoy, you’re gay, why the fuck would you care?”

“I might be gay but I still have pride! She could’ve gone with her to the ball and avoid me the embarrassment! Merlin, I seriously wanted to slap her.”

“Well, Parkinson _is_ a bitch. I don’t know why you were so surprised.” Harry replied, still giggling.

“Yeah, of course she is, but less to me than she was to you and your Gryffindork friends! I’m her best friend, you were… Well, the Chosen One, Dumbledore’s ass licking crew, all that jazz.”

“Ugh, don’t get me started on that one.” Harry rolled his eyes as Draco mentioned Dumbledore and quickly downed his drink. These days, thinking about that man only made him want to break everything in his sight, but at that moment he was too wasted to get angry.

“Salazar’s ball sack, don’t tell me Saint Potter isn’t defending his little Dumby friend?” Draco said, and laughed as Harry flipped him off.

“Stop calling me that, arsehole! And no, I’m not defending him. I don’t want to talk about him. He was a hypocrite and a liar.” Harry asked the bartender for another shot as he said that.

“Wow. I haven’t insulted a muggle-born in weeks and you’re insulting Dumbledore? Times really have changed.” Draco’s tone suddenly turned a bit too serious as he looked at the raven-haired man intensely, Harry shifting uncomfortably in his seat. So he drank his shot and got up.

“I’m gonna go dance.”

H arry walked to the dance-floor and started moving his body to the beat of the music, feeling Draco’s eyes on him. He looked back at him and winked playfully, making the other man laugh. He turned away from him and closed his eyes, enjoying the music, and the feeling of complete freedom and carelessness c oursing through his veins.

W hen he felt hands softly grab his hips, Harry turned around and was met with the sight of very handsome  guy, slightly taller than him,  and  who looked to be around his age. He wrapped an arm around the stranger’s neck, dancing against him. It wasn’t bad. Maybe he was a little gay.

“Comment tu t’appelles?” The man asked him, but of course Harry, not speaking any French, didn’t understand what he said.

“I don’t speak French, man.” He replied, laughing.

“I asked what your name was.” The other responded in a strong French accent. It was kinda cute.

“I’m Harry, you?”

“Thomas.”

Harry didn’t really care, he just wanted to dance, so he got even closer to the man, swaying his hips. The guy gripped in hips more firmly and bent down to kiss him.

When their lips touched, Harry was surprised at how similar and different it was to kissing a girl. The lack of long hair to play with  at the back of his neck  was a shame, but the kiss wasn’t bad. He kissed him back, sliding his hands on the Thomas’ torso, gripping his shirt. Yeah, he was definitely a little gay.  They made out for a few minutes before the stranger pulled back a bit.

“You want to come to my place?” Thomas asked in Harry’s ear.

“Sorry, not interested.”

The man didn’t insist, and continued dancing with him. Kissing was fine, but Harry definitely didn’t want to have sex for the first time with a stranger he had met at a club. Call him old-fashioned, but he at least wanted to know the person’s last name before sleeping with them.

After a few songs, Harry excused himself to Thomas and got back to the bar to get another drink. As he was waiting for his drink, he looked around the club, trying to spot Malfoy. Which wasn’t hard, considering you could spot the bloke’s hair colour from ten miles away. He was dancing with a guy, and, well, kissing him with a lot of… Vigour.

He tore his eyes away from them and sat down at the bar. He thanked the bartender when he gave him his drink and took a few sips. Kissing that guy had been a bit strange, considering Harry had never really questioned his sexuality and just assumed he was straight since he had dated Cho and Ginny. But he didn’t really mind at all. So what if he liked both guy and girls? It was nobody’s business but his. He thought about the Dursleys’ reaction if they knew that  and laughed to himself . A wizard  _and_ a homo? Probably their worst nightmare.

H arry looked up from his drink when he felt someone sit next to him and was met with a grinning Draco. He was sweating, and his hair was messy. He looked so different from the Malfoy Harry had known at school.

“My plan worked.”

Harry cocked an eyebrow, confused.

“What plan?”

“Of making you realize you’re not as straight as a ruler, Potter. You looked like you were having fun with that guy. He wasn’t too ugly either. That’s weird, you’re not that cute.”

Harry threw his head back, laughing.

“Liked what you saw?”

“Very much so. I always knew you liked blokes. Blaise owes me and Pansy money. We had a bet.” Draco looked very proud of himself.

“You had a bet on my sexuality? Are you obsessed with me or something?” Harry tried acting annoyed, but he couldn’t stop the grin forming on his face.

“Oh, like you’re in a place to talk about who’s obsessed with who. As if you didn’t stalk me in sixth year.”

Harry almost choked on his drink at Malfoy’s words.

“I- I didn’t stalk you! I just- I thought you were up to something, so I investigated. And I was right.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Draco rolled his eyes, smiling.

Harry had probably seen him genuinely smile more in the past four days than he had in the entire six years they had spent together at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! Tell me what you thought. Just to clear things up: I know it might seem odd how quickly Harry and Draco's relationship is evolving, but keep in mind they're just kids who are trying to cope in the same way. They are more similar than they thought they were and they're slowly realizing that. <3


	3. you get me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW : panic attack and dissociative episode at the beginning of the chapter.

After returning home from the club at around 5am, both boys bid their goodnights and went to their separate rooms. Harry was quickly coming down from his alcohol-induced daze, his vision becoming less blurry and his thoughts less fuzzy. He didn’t like that. Falling asleep while sober meant overthinking. After triple-checking the lock on the door, he undressed and immediately went to bed.

Staring at the ceiling, the man tried to empty his mind, but who was he kidding? He had always been bad at Occlumency, and trying to use it to block out his dark thoughts wasn’t going to help. Instead, he tried to go to sleep, but as soon as he closed his eyes, he saw Voldemort’s face. And then his face was replaced by Cedric’s, Sirius’s, Dumbledore’s, Lupin’s, Tonks’s, Fred’s… And the worst part was he had trouble accessing most of his last memories of them. He had forgotten most of the things that had happened during the Battle of Hogwarts, or during any of the other times he had had to fight for his life.

It was like his brain had tried to block out his most traumatic experiences, but hadn’t managed to finish the job. Because he still remembered. Not much, but the memories were there. The memories of dying, of being tortured, of watching his loved ones die to protect him. It was still there, haunting his mind.

The boy turned over in his bed, curling up in a ball. Some people talked about how they were so broken they didn’t have tears in their bodies anymore; but Harry had too much. No matter how much he sobbed, he always had more tears left to cry.

So he let the tears flow, let his feelings of sadness and guilt and fear overwhelm him. He let himself go for the first time in weeks, because sometimes holding it all in hurt even more. He felt so helpless in these moments, he couldn’t stop thinking about all the people he had lost, all the families that had been destroyed because he hadn’t been quick enough. If only he had managed to destroy the Horcruxes sooner, if he had surrendered to Voldemort as soon as the Battle had began…

And then Teddy’s round face and purple hair came into his mind, his godson, the only person who made him want to keep living. He hated the fact that he had only seen him once when he had visited Andromeda, but he needed to sort himself out before coming into that perfect baby’s life. He needed to live, to be stupid, but mostly he needed to find himself. And then he would be ready. He couldn’t let that child feel a single moment of sadness in his life, he wouldn’t allow it.

Harry held the covers close to his body, trying to calm down his erratic breathing. He was being completely taken over by anxiety, and he was used to it, but it didn’t make it any less hard. He just had to wait for the wave to pass.

***

The next day, Harry woke up at 9am. He had only managed to get a few hours of sleep, and he was exhausted, but his body just didn’t want to go back to sleep. So he went to the bathroom, took a shower, and looked at himself in the mirror – he looked like shit. His dark circles were worse than ever, his skin looked pale, he was getting skinnier, as if he wasn’t skinny enough already. He couldn’t believe the person staring back at him was, well, him. It felt as if someone else was in his mirror, a stranger who looked awfully familiar for some reason.

The more he stared in the mirror, the more he felt like he couldn’t recognize his own body, or his surroundings. He felt disconnected from everything. He was starting to dissociate. Again.

So he stood there. He didn’t know how to cope with this. He couldn’t stop it – Hermione had told him countless times to visit a Mind Healer, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to do so. He couldn’t let anyone see his weaknesses. It was too hard.

In these moments, the man completely lost track of time. Nothing felt real. Had he been in the bathroom for 15 minutes or 3 hours? He wouldn’t have been able to tell.

When Harry slowly came back to himself, he went out of the bathroom to go back to bed. He was too tired to do anything, he just wanted to spend the entire day in bed, not thinking of anything. He cast a quick Tempus to check the time and saw it was already 11am. Hi sighed and accio’d a novel he was reading at the moment, which came flying from his backpack, and snuggled under the covers.

He had only been reading for a few minutes when he heard a soft knock on his door. He put down his book on the bedside table and went to open the door, coming face to face with Malfoy.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, as he let the blonde man in and closed the door behind him.

“I take it you haven’t received any letters from Hogwarts?”

Harry frowned at his words.

“Uh, no?”

“They’re inviting the seventh years to come back for an eighth years. To take our NEWTs.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, McGonagall mentioned it to me.” Harry shrugged. He didn’t really care, it’s not like he was counting on going back. Fixing the castle had been therapeutic, but he didn’t know if he was ready to go back to being a normal student just yet. It felt unrealistic to go to potions or charms class after all that had happened in the past year.

“Why did you never mention it?” Draco sat down on Harry’s bed, making himself a bit too comfortable for his taste.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested into going back to… The wizarding community.” Harry hesitated slightly, not wanting to offend him.

“I’m not sure if I am. I mean, I know I’d get so much shit if I did. I don’t know… But I want to become a potion-brewer, and I’d need my NEWTs for that. I don’t really know what to do.”

The situation was a bit odd. Here they were, sitting on Harry’s bed, talking about Malfoy’s career choices and school, after being in Paris together for days and barely talking at all – while sober, that is. But it was nice. In these past days, Harry had realized he quite enjoyed Malfoy’s company.

“Potion-brewer? I always thought you’d want to be a magical historian or something.”

“Spent a lot of time thinking about my career path, Potter?” Malfoy smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes and shoved him playfully.

“Shut up, Malfoy.”

Malfoy laughed before going back to his serious facade.

“Are you planning on going back?” Draco asked him.

“No. Absolutely not. I can’t go back there. Too many… Bad memories.”

Draco looked at him sympathetically, a look Harry wasn’t used to seeing on the other man’s face.

“You’re not planning on becoming an Auror anymore, then.” Malfoy stated.

“I see I’m not the only one who’s spent time thinking about the other’s career path.”

The blonde laughed, shaking his head.

“Oh, shut up. The whole bloody school knows that’s what you wanted.”

“Yeah, well… I think I’ve fought with enough dark wizards for a lifetime.”

Malfoy smiled slightly, clearly a bit uncomfortable. It was the first time they came close to talking about the war, and mostly the other’s allegiances, subjects they had both been avoiding for obvious reasons.

“Am I part of them? To you?” Draco asked, his voice so low Harry wouldn’t have heard him if the room hadn’t been so quiet.

“Of the dark wizards? Of course not, D- Malfoy. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t have defended you in court, or asked you to stay here if I thought you were the next Dark Lord or something.” Harry replied, Draco chuckling lightly at his words.

It was silent for a few moments, both men seemingly deep in thought. Harry was thinking about Malfoy. He was so different from the mocking, bullying boy he had known in school. War changes people, of course, but there was a lot more to it. He seemed so much less judgmental, more educated, more open-minded. Harry had noticed his behaviour start to change in sixth year, when he had been given the task to kill Dumbledore. This was probably when Malfoy had started realizing how evil Voldemort and Death Eaters were.

“You wanna go out tonight?” Draco asked, breaking the silence.

“I think I’ll pass. I’m super tired.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Harry turned his head to look at Malfoy, who was staring at his hands, fidgeting.

“Is everything alright?” He asked.

Malfoy looked up at him, nodding.

“Yeah, yeah. ‘M fine. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

Harry could obviously see something was wrong, but he figured if Draco really wanted to talk about it, he would have, and his old nemesis was probably not his first choice to talk about his struggles anyway. The blonde left the room, and Harry went back to his novel.

***

That night, Harry received a letter from Hermione. She had bought herself an owl, apparently. It was white, and it looked a lot like Hedwig, which made his heart hurt a little. But it was beautiful.

“Dear Harry,

I hope you’re doing well. I’m quite worried about you, but I know you need some time alone to process everything, so I don’t expect you to respond to my letter, don’t worry. But I still wanted to keep you updated on what’s happening on our side.

As you know, I’ve been in Australia since the beginning of June to find my parents. I found them, Harry! I found them, and I took them to St Mungo’s, after a Confusion spell I’m not really proud of. I mean, they wouldn’t have believed me if I had told them the truth. Several Healers are working on bringing back their memory. I’m so happy. My spell was quite strong, so it’s going to take some time, but they’re hopeful, and so am I. I visited them last night, and my dad told me he felt like we had met before, which is a very good sign. I found them only two days ago, and I’m staying at the Burrow until the Healers manage to bring back all of their memories, and then I’ll go home for a bit. I’ve missed them so much.

I have also decided to go back to Hogwarts for my eighth year. Professor McGonagall came to the Burrow to talk to Ron and me about it personally, but I think she was mostly hoping to see you there. I told her you were on vacation. Which isn’t really a lie, right? She told us you weren’t planning on returning, but asked us to tell you that you would always be welcomed at Hogwarts, whether for studying or visiting.

Ron isn’t going back, though. He’s going to help George with the shop. They’re going to open up again soon. George has been locked up in his room, coming up with a ton of new products. I’m afraid he’s overworking himself, but at least he’s eating and sleeping a bit now.

The mood at the Burrow is a bit warmer than when I left. I think Molly’s new way of coping is to feed us until we explode and take care of us like we were all terminally ill. Everyone is still distraught, of course, but healing. I hope you’re healing too.

We really miss you, Harry. Be safe. Take care of yourself. And owl me or Ron or anyone else if anything’s wrong.

Love, Hermione.”

Harry smiled slightly and held the letter close to his heart. He missed his friends, he really did. Even though the way they babied him sometimes annoyed him, he knew it came from a place of deep love and care. After all they had been through together, after all the fights, the pain, but also the joy, the laughs… He knew nothing could ever come between them. Not even his own dark thoughts and terrible mood swings.

He set the letter on his bedside table and got up, stretching his aching muscles. Partying all night and sleeping all day really wasn’t having the greatest effect on his body. He was really bored, and tired of thinking endlessly about how odd the situation between him and the man next door was, so he decided to go pay Draco a visit.

After getting dressed in some muggle jeans and a graphic tee, he got out of his room to go knock on Draco’s door. He waited for a few seconds. No response. So he knocked again, more forcefully this time, and heard some groaning from inside. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who had spent the entire day in bed.

The door opened, revealing a very tired looking Malfoy.

“What do you want, Potter?”

“Well, someone’s in a good mood.”

Draco rolled his eyes but let him in nonetheless. It was the first time Harry came in Draco’s room, and it was the complete opposite of his. Everything looked neat and tidy. Harry’s was a complete mess. He went to sit on the sofa across Draco’s bed, the other man joining him.

“So, what owes me the pleasure, Potter? I thought you said you didn’t want to go out tonight.”

“I know, I know. I was just bored.”

“So I’m just an object you come to when you’re bored? I’m offended.”

Harry chuckled.

“No. I just wanted to… Talk.”

Draco tensed a little at this.

“About what? Because if you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, not that. Well. Just- It’s weird, isn’t it? Us, together, in Paris.” Harry looked up at him.

“Everything is weird with us, Potter, in case you didn’t notice. We’ve been enemies since we were literal children because you rejected my friendship, we argued every time we saw each other in the halls at school, you tried to murder me in sixth year, I wanted to give you up to the man who wanted to kill you, and then you defended me at my trial. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if you came here and beat me up and then professed your undying love and devotion to me.”

Harry blushed furiously at this, not expecting Draco to be so blunt.

“First of all, I didn’t try to murder you, Malfoy, it was an accident, and second of all, don’t expect me to profess my undying love to you anytime soon, you’re not my type. Too blonde.”

Draco snorted.

“Yeah, right, you prefer gingers. And muscular French men.”

Harry rolled his eyes dramatically, the two men laughing.

“And you like dudes who won’t hesitate to have sex in club bathrooms. Honestly, Malfoy, that’s just unsanitary.”

“Now you’re interested in my sex life as well? Damn. You really are obsessed with me.”

“Oh, shut up. You wish.”

They looked at each other in the eyes for a few seconds, before Draco broke the tension by getting up and going to the mini-fridge next to his dresser.

“What are you doing?”

“Just because we’re not going out tonight doesn’t mean I don’t want to get wasted.”

The blonde man got back up and turned to Harry with a malicious smirk on his face, a bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky in one hand, and a bottle of muggle vodka in the other. Harry laughed, and summoned two tall glasses with his wand. This was going to be a fun night.

“Now that’s what I like.”

Draco laughed as well and settled the bottles on a chair he had transfigured into a small table. He also took out two frozen pizzas from the mini-fridge, heating them up with a quick spell before settling them on the table as well. Harry’s stomach growled when he saw the food, he hadn’t eaten all day, and had barely eaten the day before.

“Where did you get all these?”

“I don’t know if you’re aware, Potter, but there’s this thing called a grocery store. That’s where most people buy their food.”

Harry looked at him, unamused. Malfoy was such a sarcastic brat sometimes.

“I know what a grocery store is, idiot. I didn’t know you went shopping.”

“And I didn’t know I was supposed to keep you updated on what I do with my days.” Malfoy smirked at him. He knew how annoying he was, and Harry kind of wanted to slap him sometimes. But he liked getting to know this cheeky, playful side of Malfoy.

“Whatever. Pass me the booze.”

As the evening went on, both men ate and drank until they forgot all of their struggles. One of the two bottles was completely empty, and they were both laughing like idiots at anything and everything. They felt like they didn’t have a care in the world, and without them even noticing, they were getting closer and closer to topics they had previously avoided.

“Honestly, Potter, what was it like growing up with muggles? I mean, seriously, muggles! It must’ve been boring as fuck.”

“If you count being exploited and abuse as boring, it certainly was boring as hell.” Harry said, laughing, not even realizing how dark what he had just said was. But Draco had.

“Wait- abused? What the fuck?” Draco replied, calming down instantly.

“They weren’t exactly fond of me. I was like- like a house elf, mostly.” Harry calmed down a bit as well, a smile still on his lips, but this one didn’t hold any trace of humour.

“That’s rough, man.” Draco whispered, painful memories of his own childhood coming back to him.

“Yeah, well, I don’t expect being raised by Lucius Malfoy was much more fun.”

“I was never exploited-”

“It’s fine, Draco. Really. Let’s just- not talk about it, alright?” Harry smiled at him, not even realizing he had called the blonde by his first name.

“Alright.” Draco’s eyes lingered on Harry for a few more seconds, and he then regained his composure, filling up their glasses with pure vodka with a simple flick of his wand.

They drank some more, going back to their light-hearted conversations about happy school memories, forgetting all about how they had come dangerously close to having a deep heart-to-heart about their traumatic childhoods.

“Oh come on Potter, did you really not put your name in the Goblet of Fire? Like, for real?”

“I swear!” Harry laughed. “I swear I didn’t.”

“You know what? I believe you now. I should’ve guessed you weren’t smart enough for that.”

“Oh shut up. I _am_ smart.”

Draco looked at him, seemingly not convinced.

“You’re a Gryffindor.” He replied, looking dead serious.

“What does that have to do with anything!”

“Gryffindors are stupid! They act all brave and shit but really it just shows their lack of survival instinct. And I’ve seen you in class and exams, Potter, you always had that dumb confused look on your face. It was sad, really.”

“You did not just tell me I have a lack of survival instinct. I’m the bloody Saviour-Of-The-Entire-World. Don’t forget my title.”

Malfoy burst out laughing.

“Right. Just wait till the Prophet finds out you’re a closeted queer. You’re going to have a brand new title after that.”

Harry slapped the back of Malfoy’s head lightly.

“Is that a threat?”

“No it’s not, Potter. See? You’re just conforming what I said. Stupid.”

“Don’t forget a stupid Gryffindor was better than you in potions in sixth year.” Harry retorted, smiling.

“Hey! You weren’t better than me, you cheated, and I didn’t.”

“I didn’t cheat!”

“Yeah, you did! You had Professor Snape’s old potions book!”

“What the- How do you even know about that? Did you go through my stuff? I know you like me and shit but I didn’t know it was at that point.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips.

“No, I know that because he told me, because I’m not a brat with a superiority complex, and he liked me.”

“Right, because I’m the one with the superiority complex, Mr. Pureblood.”

And they went on like this for the entire night. Just drinking until all of the alcohol was gone, laughing until their stomachs hurt, and bickering over and over. It seemed so normal, the conversation flowing naturally, as if they had done this their entire lives. As if they were old friends. And of course the alcohol helped, but Harry felt comfortable with Malfoy. He knew it wouldn’t last, of course – once they went back to England, they were probably never going to speak again. But he was just so happy to be able to spend some time with someone who didn’t treat him either like a martyr or an idol. He finally felt like he had found someone who truly, deeply understood him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know what you thought in the comments!! Don't worry, the angst is coming soon. This is just the calm before the storm.


	4. happy birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of suicidal thoughts and self harm at the end of the chapter

A week had passed since Harry and Draco had spent the night drinking in the latter’s room, and both men seemed to get closer by the minute. They spent more time together during the days, and went out most of the nights. It had now been two weeks since they had been in France, and they were planning on going to Italy next. Draco had always wanted to go to Tuscany. Neither of them wanted to go back to England just yet, and even though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else for now – while sober, that is – Harry at least admitted to himself that he enjoyed Malfoy’s company. They still bickered endlessly, and still didn’t talk about anything too serious, but they both found comfort in the other’s presence. Harry didn’t ask Draco questions about the war or about how he was a Death Eater, and Draco didn’t treat Harry like he was a gift from heaven.

And sometimes when they were in the same room late at night some words were thrown around and they acted like they were all jokes even though they weren’t. They both knew how broken the other was, and they didn’t do anything about it, both of them finding comfort in knowing that they understood each other without saying the words out loud.

Unfortunately, hiding away in muggle Paris meant that the Prophet had noticed Harry’s absence, and nearly every issue for the past week had an article speculating on where he was. Their favourite theory was that their precious Saviour was completing his Auror training in America. Harry and Draco had had a good laugh when the brunette had showed him the article Hermione had sent. Apparently, the wizarding community thought Harry couldn’t wait to go back to fighting dark wizards, as it was apparently his duty, when in reality he spent most his time with his former school enemy in gay bars.

Harry had been delighted to find out the Healer’s at St Mungo’s had nearly fully healed the Grangers, and even though their memories were still a bit fuzzy, they remembered Hermione. He had also received a long letter from Ginny telling him they should officially break up, even though they weren’t really in a relationship anymore anyway, and they should go back to being good friends instead, which should’ve probably made him feel sad, but he was mostly relieved. He didn’t even see her as anything more than a close friend anymore, and the letter was mostly to clear things up. Draco had found that absolutely hilarious, “Oh Potter, being broken up with by letter after making out with dudes almost every night, you must be devastated”. He did feel a bit guilty about that but it wasn’t like they had acted like a couple the few times they had seen each other before Harry left, so it wasn’t really that big of a deal.

***

So, on the 30 th  of July, after one final shopping spree at the Galeries Lafayette – which had mostly been for Draco since Harry only wore jeans and graphic tees he found in thrift shops, to the blonde’s disgust – they went back to the hotel to pack their stuff and check out. Harry had bought a few clothes as well during their stay, so his backpack really wasn’t big enough anymore, and Draco had insulted his magical skills before casting an undetectable extension charm on said bag.

“Honestly, Potter, you’re a wizard, you should start acting like one. This spell isn’t that hard. How you could even survive last year is beyond me.”

“Sorry, I forgot you were better than me in everything.” Harry replied, rolling his eyes. It was mostly a habit of Draco’s, but spending so much time with the blonde had made Harry pick up some of his quirks.

Draco, who hadn’t brought any clothes with him to Paris since this wasn’t really a planned vacation, had bought everything there with his muggle money – Harry had been very surprised to see how comfortable the other was with it, but after all Draco was full of surprises – and had also bought a small backpack, on which he had performed an extension charm, just like he just had on Harry’s.

Once they had finished packing and checking out of the hotel, they went to the nearest International Apparition Point, which was much safer than regular apparition on long distances, and apparated to Florence, hand in hand.

When they arrived, Draco let go of Harry’s hand so fast it was almost offensive, and looked around them.

“Wow.” The blonde whispered, a small smile on his lips. “It’s splendid.”

Harry tore his eyes away from Draco, smiling as well.

“It is.”

The two men walked together to a fancy hotel in the city they had found on a pamphlet in a travelling agency back in Paris and went to ask the woman at the reception for two separate rooms. She looked at her computer, frowning.

“I’m sorry but we only have one room left, it’s the middle of summer and we’re packed. It has two separate beds though, do you want it?”

Oh no. Travelling with Draco, partying with him – it was nice. But sharing a room? That meant spending a lot more time together. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. But they didn’t know the city and he really liked this place.

“What do you think?” Harry asked, a bit nervous. He didn’t know what he wanted Draco’s answer to be.

“I don’t know. It’s not like we have a lot of other options, right?” Draco answered, his face unreadable. He could be so unnecessarily mysterious sometimes.

Harry turned to look at the receptionist, a tight smile on his lips. This was going to be… Interesting, to say the least.

“We’ll take it.”

The receptionist took their information, gave them their keys, and the men went to their room in an uncomfortable silence. This was awkward. Great start.

However, all of the doubts and embarrassment vanished when they entered the room. It didn’t even look like a hotel room – it was more like a decent-sized apartment. Harry looked around him, amazed. They had a beautiful suite in a beautiful city. Forget the sharing a room problem – this was going to be awesome. What could go wrong?

“What the fuck!” Harry laughed at Draco’s words. Apparently he wasn’t the only one to be amazed.

“This is epic. It’s huge!”

Harry put his bag down on the floor and threw himself on the first bed, spreading his limbs so as to be in a starfish position, his face mushed into the many pillows. Was this what being in Heaven felt like? He had a huge smile on his face. Even his bed at Hogwarts wasn’t that comfy.

“I’m never leaving this bed. Ever.” Harry said.

Draco smiled at him and unpacked his new clothes, folding them carefully, and putting them in the dresser next to his own bed. They had only spent two weeks in Paris and yet he had had the time to buy a whole new wardrobe, mostly made of black, brown, white and emerald green, the only colours he ever really wore. But Harry couldn’t criticize him on this considering his own questionable fashion choices.

Harry turned to lay on his side, staring at Draco. He really hoped spending so much more time together wasn’t going to induce… Uncomfortable situations. The raven-haired man dealt with a lot of night terrors, dissociative episodes and panic attacks, and he was scared of someone seeing him be so vulnerable. Not because he didn’t trust Draco – he had spent enough time with him to know he was harmless – but because he had never shown this side of himself to anyone except for Ron and Hermione. And he knew he shouldn’t be, but he was ashamed.

“Quit staring at my ass, Potter, will you?” Draco said as he finished unpacking and turned back to face Harry.

Harry’s cheeks flushed a bright red and he turned on his back to face the ceiling.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He answered.

Draco laughed – a genuine one again – and laid down as well on his own bed.

“Potter?”

“What?” Harry turned his face to look at him.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow, right?”

Harry had to think for a second. He didn’t even remember it was going to be his birthday. He didn’t care that much either. Celebrating his birthday didn’t hold a lot of happy memories; he had only celebrated it a few times with the Weasleys and some Order members, but it always followed terrible events, so it had never been such a happy thing for him. His last birthdays had been tainted by the deaths of Cedric, Sirius, and Dumbledore.

“Right. It’s not a big deal.”

“We should still do something. Like go out or something, I don’t know.”

“We always go out.” Harry chuckled. “I don’t really like celebrating it anyway. Don’t worry about it. How do you even know when my birthday is?”

“You’re the Chosen One, Potter, everybody knows when your birthday is. We’re going out tonight and I’m paying for drinks, I wouldn’t want to upset the Saviour on his birthday, or else I’m going to get Howlers from all of the readers of Witch Weekly.”

Harry laughed loudly, he liked how Malfoy made fun of his title of saviour. Almost everybody treated him as a hero, but the Slytherin laughed about it, and it might’ve seemed rude to others, but Harry knew it was just how Malfoy was. And it felt nice to not be put on a pedestal he didn’t deserve.

“Thanks. And I’m finally gonna be able to order drinks without confusion charms!”

“Famous Saint Potter is finally going to stop doing illegal shit to get wasted. Charming.”

Harry rolled his eyes, smiling.

“Right. Now if you’re done insulting me, we could go visit the city a bit.”

***

The two men had spent the best day since they had left together. After unpacking all of their stuff, they had left the hotel and visited the city. It was absolutely beautiful, they had eaten at a small pizza place, and Harry had managed to eat a full meal for the first time in months. They had made some small talk, and were getting much closer. They actually had a lot in common, and liked a lot of the same stuff. They were both fans of wizard rock bands and had the same favourite wizard authors, though Draco had made fun of Harry’s lack of knowledge on the subject. A bond was forming between them, and though they couldn’t fully understand it, they didn’t do anything to stop it.

Part of the reason why they didn’t really do anything about it was because this whole trip didn’t even feel like real life. They were spending time together, two old enemies, in beautiful cities, away from all of the drama, the rumours, the attention, the hatred, the hurt. It all felt so surreal, but so natural. Like it was all meant to be, and everything they had been through had led them to this for a reason.

As they went back to the hotel, they were joking around a bit, and talking about the places they had visited during the day, Draco going on and on about muggle architecture being much less mediocre than he thought. He discovered new things about muggles everyday, which made Harry think about himself when he had first arrived to the wizarding world. He was amazed at so many things, just like Draco was now that he was learning so much about muggle architecture, literature and technology. It was sweet.

“Honestly, it’s ridiculous. Their style is so nice and modern. Wizarding places have had the same architecture style for centuries! I mean, please, have you seen Hogsmeade? It’s like going back to the 16th century!”

“Right, because I’ve bet you’ve been alive since the 16th century, Malfoy.” Harry was way too amused by the situation. Seeing Draco Malfoy praising muggles seemed so unreal.

“There’s this thing called books, Potter, you should open one once in a while. I mean, Hogsmeade is such an old village. The architecture has barely changed since it was founded centuries ago. It’s insane! Same for Hogwarts, it has looked the same since it was bloody built. I love it, don’t get me wrong, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. But wizarding homes… Everything is just so old.”

“That’s because your Pureblood family has been living in the same place since before baby Jesus was born you dummie. A lot of wizards live in normal, modern houses, not in huge scary manors. And the Ministry is modern. So is St Mungo’s.”

“Right.” Draco scoffed as they entered the hotel lobby.

Harry laughed lightly, he knew Draco was agreeing with him but had too much pride to admit that the famous Gryffindor was right on that one. He was starting to know him better than the blonde thought.

***

It was midnight in a few minutes. Draco and Harry were dancing together in a club, their bodies nearly touching, only a few small centimetres separating them. They had smoked a bit with some guys they didn’t know in front of the club before going in and had had a bit too many shots, so they were completely wasted, as always. The music was loud, the club was packed, it was hot. But as with everything these days, they didn’t care, too caught up in their spiral of denial of their feelings, trauma and self-destruction.

“I should ask the DJ to play a happy birthday song when the clock hits midnight! I mean, you’re used to the attention anyway!” Draco yelled in Harry’s ear.

“If you do this, Malfoy, I might have to murder you in your sleep.” The brunette yelled back, laughing.

This was nice. It was going to be Harry’s birthday in a few minutes, and he felt on top of the world, like nothing could ever hurt him again. He was here, in Italy, with his new friend, having fun, far away from the media and the rumours. Far away from the people he had hurt, and properly celebrating his birthday with no problems on his mind for the first time ever, just like any other teenager. The only thing that was missing was his friends, and yet he didn’t miss them that much at that moment.

“This is the best birthday ever!” Harry screamed.

“It’s not even your birthday yet, Potter. Don’t jinx it.” Draco laughed, putting an arm around Harry’s waist, bringing him a bit closer. Harry barely noticed the gesture, too caught up in his ecstatic mood to react. It wasn’t the first time Draco became a bit touchy-feely while drunk, so he didn’t really think anything of it, it was nothing out of their ordinary.

“Only one minute left.” Harry responded, smiling widely. Draco was looking at him in the eyes intensely, his pupils dilated, his breath smelling a mixture of mint, weed and alcohol. It wasn’t bad. He quite liked it actually. Wait, why was he thinking about Malfoy’s breath? That was weird. And a little creepy.

“Happy birthday.” Draco said as midnight came, smiling at Harry. Before the brunette could even realize what was happening, the blonde had two hands on his hips, and his lips on Harry’s. Whether it was because of the alcohol or something else, Harry kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Draco’s neck. He was in a total daze, not thinking of anything except for the soft lips kissing him, the warm tongue against his mouth. He pressed his body against Malfoy’s, wanting the moment to last forever. He felt invincible.

However, the mood was ruined when someone accidentally bumped into them, and as they were separated, something seemed to snap in Draco. His eyes became dark, he clenched his fists. He took a step back and stared at Harry like he’d seen a ghost.

“Malfoy-”

“I’m sorry.” Draco’s tone was chilling, and Harry froze for a second.

Harry tried grabbing Malfoy’s arm, tried to hold him back, to tell him that it was alright, that they were drunk and wouldn’t even remember it the next day, but Draco had disapparated in the middle of the club, not even bothering to hide from all the muggles, who were probably too drunk to notice him anyway. Harry’s brain was still fuzzy and holy shit he had just kissed Draco Malfoy. What the fuck. What the fuck? He ran a hand in his messy hair, the effects of the alcohol quickly evaporating.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

He was panicking. Partying with Draco Malfoy was one thing. Travelling together was odd enough. But kissing? No. It must’ve been a dream. Why had Draco kissed him? And why had he left? What was even happening? Harry was so confused, but only one person could help him answer these questions, and this person was gone. He had to find him before Draco did anything stupid.

Harry pushed through the sweaty bodies, trying to make his way to the bathroom so he could apparate back to the hotel without bringing any attention from the muggles. After shoving a few people out of his way, he entered into a stall and quickly apparated directly in front of the hotel, not even caring that apparating into a muggle area was illegal. He just had to find Malfoy. This was bad. Something felt wrong.

Harry was running as fast as his legs could bear. He ran into the lobby, ignoring the confused-looking security guard, and ran up the stairs. All the man could think about was getting to the room before Draco had the chance to leave or worse. What if he hurt himself? Harry knew the man was very vulnerable, and this situation certainly wouldn’t help. He had seen it, he wasn’t stupid. He had seen the rashes around Draco’s dark mark when he thought Harry wasn’t looking, he had noticed the scars on his back, he had noticed how sometimes Draco wasn’t really there, how sometimes he would make self-decapitating jokes that were a bit too dark to be funny, how he had once said while drunk that Harry was the only thing keeping him alive as a joke, but it wasn’t really a joke, Harry knew that, and deep down Draco knew it too. And Harry had pretended not to remember. What an idiot.

Malfoy was as broken as him, and Harry knew what this could lead to, and he hadn’t done anything, and now the boy was Merlin knows where, drunk, alone, confused, probably very pissed at himself, and had apparated while under the influence which was incredibly stupid and so dangerous, and Harry’s thoughts were all over the place, and he was starting to have a panic attack.

As he finally arrived in front of their hotel room, Harry opened the door as fast as possible, hoping to see Draco there, hoping he was overreacting, that they were going to pretend this never happened, that everything would be fine, that they could continue this weird friendship they had developed over the weeks.

But the room was empty. Draco’s stuff was gone. And so was he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading and happy new years! this chapter is a bit shorter but i had to cut it there. sorry for the slow updates, it's exam season and i'm super busy, but after jan 12th i'll be able to update more regularly<3


	5. back to the burrow

After spending the night in the hotel, Harry decided to go back to England. He had barely gotten any sleep and had spent the night thinking over and over about Draco, about why he kissed him, about why he left, about their trip together, about the fragile friendship that had been forming between them before everything collapsed.

Harry knew he would be somewhat disappointed when all of this ended, but he didn’t expect to be this sad. Over the past two weeks, he had gotten to know the real Draco, who he was away from negative influences, from the war, from his toxic father, without all of his prejudice. And he was a good person. He was fun to be around, and really nice, actually.  Well, most of the time he wasn’t that nice, he was a sarcastic brat, but it wasn’t mean, it was funny.  Despite all of the unresolved issues  and unsaid apologies between them, they had spent a really good time together, and Harry missed it already.  Missed  _him_ , actually, though t hat was harder to admit.

At around  7 am, he decided to get up. He was still really tired,  and it was early, but he knew he wouldn’t fall asleep again anyway, so it was no use. Once his backpack was done, he checked out of the hotel, the receptionist looking at him with pity. He probably looked like shit, but he didn’t really  have the strength to  care. He  went to the  International  Apparition Point, the same one they had arrived to the previous day, and apparated to London, and then to Ottery St Catchpole. He didn’t know where else to go apart from the Burrow, and he didn’t feel like being alone.  And, to be honest, he kind of felt like being taken care of at the moment.

Harry walked insides the wards that were still set around the Burrow, a necessary protection when you were a key element i n Voldemort’s defeat, and went to knock on the door. He hadn’t informed anybody he was coming back but he could hear some noise inside so he knew a t least one person w as up.

The door opened, and Molly Weasley gave Harry such a warm and happy smile he could feel all of his troubles go away.

“Oh Harry! We weren’t expecting you for another few weeks! I missed you so much, dear. And happy birthday!” She hugged him tightly, rubbing his back. Harry hugged her back, enjoying the motherly affection.

“I missed you too, Mrs. Weasley.” He replied, letting go of her with a small smile. Now that he was close to her, he could see how tired she looked, and a wave of guilt washed over him.

“Come on in, everyone is going to be so happy to see you.” She practically dragged him inside, closing the door behind him.

As soon as Harry walked into the Burrow, he w as hit with the familiar smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen, and he was  kind of  glad he had chosen to come back. He needed to think of something else, and spending his days alone in London would’ve only made him think of Draco, and he didn’t need that.

“Go eat, dear, you look even skinnier than last time I saw you! Oh, when I learned you had left on your own, I was worried sick, I’m so happy you’re back. I’m going to bake you a cake for tonight, we have to celebrate! Eighteen is a big deal.” Molly patted his cheek softly and ushered him to the kitchen, where a ton of bacon and eggs were cooking on the stove. There also was cereal and toast on the table. Hermione wasn’t lying when she said Molly fed them until they exploded, this looked like a feast for at least 20 people, and as far as Harry knew, only six people lived there at the time.

Harry sat down and Molly took a plate, filling it with food, and putting it in front of him.  He thanked her with a smile, not daring to tell her he wasn’t really hungry. He took a few bites,  and  the food was delicious, but his stomach was screaming at him to stop eating. He felt sick, but he didn’t want to worry Molly even more, she looked so happy to see him,  and he had caused her enough trouble.

“This is great, Mrs. Weasley.” He smiled at her and she ruffled his hair slightly before going back to her cooking. Harry ate a few more bites until he couldn’t anymore, and just at that moment Ron came into the kitchen with Hermione.

The next few seconds were a mess of shouts and hugs, the two lovers running to their best friend. Harry hugged them tightly, he had missed them a lot too. These past two weeks, he had realized that the resentment he sometimes felt towards them was unjustified, and was just what his guilt made him feel when it all got too much to handle.

“Why are you back so early?” Hermione asked after her and Ron finished telling Harry how much they had worried and missed him and giving him their birthday wishes.

“Things didn’t go according to plan.” Harry replied, forcing a smile. He knew his friends didn’t really believe it, but he made them understand he would talk to them about it later. They didn’t need words to communicate. He didn’t know if he was ready to talk to them about Draco, but he would, eventually.

“I’m gonna go wrap your presents for tonight! We have to celebrate!” Ron ran out of the room, Hermione laughing at him. Harry was happy for them, he knew they had had feelings for each other for years. He had probably noticed it before they did. And even though he felt a bit jealous, he didn’t want to be selfish. They were his best friends, and he was happy to see them happy and in love together. They deserved it, more than anyone.

“So, where did you go?” Hermione asked, sitting next to Harry at the table, getting a few toasts in a plate.

“W- I went to London for a night, and then I spent two weeks in Paris, and I spent a day in Florence.”

“Only a day? Did you not like it there?”

“I did, it was beautiful, just… I had to come back. Nothing bad happened!” He added defensively when he saw her I-Know-You’re-Bullshitting-Me face. He didn’t want her to insist, especially not in front of Mrs. Weasley, which she apparently understood, because she didn’t push it.

Ginny arrived right after, awoken by all the noise. She hugged Harry as well, wishing him a happy birthday. Harry was glad to see her, and was especially happy that things weren’t awkward. George came into the kitchen as well,  Ron right behind him, as did Mr. Weasley and soon enough the entire clan was around the breakfast table,  everyone catching up. Though Harry had only left for two weeks, he had spent the rest of his time working on the reconstruction of Hogwarts so he hadn’t seen the Weasleys a lot, except for the few times they had come to help. There wasn’t a lot of news, so Ginny and Hermione were talking excitedly about their return to Hogwarts, though Harry could see they seemed a bit anxious about it.

Ron and George were quietly discussing the upcoming reopening of the shop, and Harry couldn’t help but notice how empty George looked compared to before the war. Compared to before he lost his twin. He was putting on a brave face, smiling every now and then, but his eyes looked lifeless. It was heartbreaking. Harry hadn’t always been such an attentive person, but spending time with Draco had made him learn to look between the lines, since the only way to know what the man was really feeling was to watch him. Apparently, he hadn’t been so attentive since he hadn’t noticed Draco seemingly wanted more than just a buddy from him.

But he couldn’t think about that now. He was with his family, and he didn’t want to think about Draco, or about t he previous night. It was just a kiss,  after all . It was just a short vacation. And he knew it would come to an end eventually. He needed to stop thinking about him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to Hogwarts, Harry?” Hermione asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I’m sure. I want to move on from all of this. Taking my NEWTs just seems pointless, now.”

“What are you planning on doing this year then, dear?” Molly asked, smiling at him kindly. He had expected her to insist on him going back to Hogwarts, since she had always been so keen on her own children being good students, but apparently this was one of the many things that had changed.

“I don’t really know yet. I think I’m going to take some time to figure things out. And I’m sure Professor McGonagall would let me come take my NEWTs as an external candidate or something. But I really don’t feel like being a student for a whole year again.”

“I totally get that, mate. Even if we didn’t have the shop to run, I wouldn’t have gone back either.” Ron added. “It would feel so weird.”

T he rest of breakfast went by quite quietly, and thankfully nobody seemed to notice that Harry had barely touched his food. When everyone was finished, Hermione left to go visit her parents at St Mungo’s, Arthur went to work, Molly went gardening, George locked himself in his room with Ron to work on their latest products, and then it was only Harry and Ginny left in the kitchen.

Ginny made a small gesture towards the living room and they went to sit on the couch together.

“How was your vacation?” Ginny asked him, looking at him with kind eyes and a soft smile. Merlin, Harry had missed her. Though they weren’t together anymore, she was one of the few people who always brought out the best in him, who made him feel so safe and cared for. They didn’t always understand each other, but they tried, and she really was one of the most important people in Harry’s life.

“It was good. Really good, actually. Quite unexpected. I didn’t plan to travel, I originally just wanted to stay in muggle London, but… It just sort of happened.”

“Who were you with?”

Harry felt taken aback by her question. How could she know he was with someone?

“I was on my own. What makes you think I was with someone else?”

“Nothing. I just thought… Well, I don’t know. Since you came back so abruptly and out of the blue, I just thought you were with someone and things had gone wrong or something.”

G inny had really kept her powers in divination from him.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. I just woke up and… Felt like coming back.”

Harry usually was a terrible liar, but he thought this one was pretty believable. And even if she didn’t believe him, he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. He wanted to figure things out with Draco before that, talk to him. But he had gotten to know the Slytherin and he knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

Ginny seemed to believe him, and if she didn’t, she didn’t say anything about it and changed the subject. They talked about Quidditch, about life at the Burrow, about Hermione’s parents. Just typical stuff. Harry hadn’t felt so normal in weeks, and he didn’t know if it was a good thing. Wasn’t his “normal” everything he had been running from in the first place?

***

That evening, they all celebrated Harry’s birthday,  the Weasleys had invited  Luna,  Bill and Fleur as well as  Andromeda Tonks with Teddy, which Harry was so happy about. He had really missed his godson, and even though he knew he still needed to sort himself out in order to be a good godfather, he loved seeing him and playing with him. The little boy was a few months old now and  the cutest baby alive, in Harry’s humble and completely unbiased opinion.

The only thing missing was a certain blonde haired man.

Harry had tried to stop thinking about him, but he just couldn’t. He had felt such a visceral connection to him these past weeks, Draco really, deeply understood him, he was funny, he was nice (sometimes) and the complete opposite of what Harry used to think  he was . Without even talking about it, they had bonded over their trauma, and had really become friends. During the trip, he had thought they would just go back to being mere acquaintances once they went back home, but now that he was back home, the brunette realized that he had been lying to himself. That wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted a real friendship with Draco, as crazy as that might’ve sounded.

But he tried to push these thoughts aside to enjoy the evening. It was nice, they had had a very nice meal and had eaten a beautiful cake made by M rs. Weasley , and Harry had opened his presents. He had gotten a  new pair of very fancy-looking round glasses from Bill and Fleur, green robes from Andromeda (how ironic), some sort of nargle repellent from Luna, several Quidditch books from Ron and Hermione, some new Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes from George, a new red scarf with embroidered golden snitches from Ginny, but his favourite and least-expected gift was Mrs. and Mr. Weasley’s.

“What is that?” Harry asked as the both of them brought out a big box from the house, both smiling widely. They seemed very proud of that gift. Since the war, Mr. Weasley earned a lot more money considering him and his family were greatly involved in Voldemort’s defeat. It was also probably because the Ministry felt guilty for treating the Weasleys like crap during the war, and for years before that. And although they weren’t rich, they were able to afford a few luxuries.

“Open it quickly, dear.” Mrs. Weasley said, which really sparked Harry’s curiosity.

H e opened the big box and gasped.

“You didn’t!” He exclaimed.

Harry took out the cage from the box and was met with a tiny, sleeping ball of feathers. It was a baby  Eastern  Screech owl. The man looked at it attentively, it was s o pretty.

“It’s a female.” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Thank you so much.” Harry’s voice cracked. It was just an owl, but it meant so much more than that to him. After Hedwig had died, he had went on the run and hadn’t had the opportunity to buy a new one, and after the war he hadn’t been brave enough to get one. He missed his old one so much, but this new one felt like… Kind of a new beginning. “I love it. Thank you.”

“What are you going to name it, Harry?” Bill asked.

“I don’t know yet… I’ll have think about it.” Harry answered, still staring at his new owl. He was so happy. It was so small and adorable.

“I think Moon would suit it. It’s cute.” Luna said in her usual dreamy voice.

Moon really was a pretty name for an owl, Harry thought.

“Let’s go with that, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed! it was very short, sorry :( but its mostly a transition to the second act of the story. next chapter is going to be... pretty eventful. hehe


	6. the ball (part one)

Five days had gone by since Harry had come back to the Burrow. That was enough to remind him why he had decided to leave. Staying with the people he felt most guilty to have hurt triggered his panic attacks and night terrors like crazy. There wasn’t a single night where he didn’t wake up in a cold sweat at least twice, and it was now becoming a habit for him to have to go hide in the bathroom to have a panic attack in the middle of the day. Seeing so much grief in the eyes of those he had considered family for so many years absolutely broke his heart, and the worst part was he felt so, so guilty for Fred’s death. If he had just surrendered to Voldemort sooner…

His only comfort was hanging out with Moon. It probably seemed stupid, but he loved talking to the owl and telling her about his troubles. Harry truly felt like she understood him, just like Hedwig had. He remembered late nights at Hogwarts, especially in his last two years, where he would stay in the Owlery for hours just to talk to her. And she always listened. Or didn’t fly away, at least.

So when he felt the familiar rush of anxiety, he would quietly go to Ron’s room upstairs and tell the owl everything that was bothering him. Most of it had to do with Fred, or with how he wished he could go back to London without telling anyone, but didn’t want to cause the Weasleys and Hermione any more worry. He missed going out dancing, he missed kissing strangers, he missed the feeling of light-headedness that came with drinking, he missed smoking with Draco, and he missed feeling like he didn’t have a care in the world. He missed feeling alive.

He loved his friends so much, and he loved Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but he was suffocating in there. He felt trapped, his mental health was shit, and he just wanted to go be young and stupid again. But they wouldn’t understand. It wasn’t their way of coping and Harry didn’t know if he wanted to face their disapproval. He was an adult, yes, but the last thing he wanted was to feel judged by the people he loved most.

That’s why, on that fifth night, he told the Weasleys and Hermione he was going to dinner at Andromeda’s to spend some time with Teddy and was probably going to sleep over. He felt guilty about using his godson as an excuse to escape from the house, but he really needed a break, just for one night. He was genuinely going to eat there, he just wasn’t spending the night and would instead go to muggle London after dinner, to the same club in which he had seen Draco three weeks prior. So at around 6pm, he left the Burrow and apparated to her front yard. It was the first time he visited his godson since his birthday and he was really excited to see him, he missed him everyday.

Andromeda opened the door just as he was about to knock, a crying Teddy in her arms. She looked exhausted, had dark circles under her eyes, so the resemblance with her deceased sister was even more striking than usual.

“Hello, Harry, come on in. I’m sorry about this, he’s been at it all day.” Andromeda closed the door behind him, trying to sooth poor Teddy.

“Aw, what’s going on?” Harry gently took Teddy in his own arms. The little boy was usually really cute but his screams unbelievably loud for such a small human.

“I think it’s his teeth. He’s not even 4 months old yet so he’s a bit young but it might be it. Nymphadora was an absolute nightmare when hers began growing.” Andromeda caressed the little man’s blue hair fondly while Harry was cradling him. He calmed down slightly but was still whining.

Harry’s heart ached when she mentioned her daughter. He was suddenly taken by an overwhelming feeling of guilt as he looked at the baby and remembered his parents. The parents he would never know, just like Harry. But Teddy would get a better childhood than him, he would make sure of it. Andromeda was a good woman and Harry would visit him as much as possible, and one day he would tell him all about his parents, and if Teddy hated him for causing their deaths, Harry wouldn’t blame him.

***

Since it was Harry’s first time alone at Andromeda’s house, he had been a bit nervous. He didn’t really know what they were going to talk about, and he was afraid things would be awkward, but the night went by so fast. After spending some time with Teddy and getting him to sleep, they ate dinner and Harry had a really great time. Andromeda was such an interesting woman, she had so many fascinating stories about her years at Hogwarts, her insane family, Sirius, Tonks. They talked for hours, and the conversations they had were sometimes hard, but she never once gave Harry the time to get sad. Andromeda was one of the strongest, most interesting and funniest people Harry had ever met. And it was clear she had been raised with Draco’s mother – she had the same posh ways to talk and carry herself as he did.

As 10pm rolled around, the brunette figured it was probably time for him to leave. Andromeda walked him to the door and hugged him quickly.

“Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Tonks, I had a great time.”

“Oh please, Harry, call me Andromeda. I had a very pleasant time as well, thank you for responding to my invitation.” She smiled kindly at him, and he left.

Harry apparated to London, smoked a cigarette for confidence and walked to the same club he had been to last time, hoping that Draco would be there again.

***

The next morning, Harry woke up with a raging headache. He tried to grab his glasses from his nightstand, and as he was about to put them on his nose, he was startled by the sound of cars driving by. What the fuck?

He pushed the glasses up his nose and sat up quickly, taking in his surroundings. Unfamiliar. Where the hell was he? He had been planning on coming back to the Burrow early in the morning as to not raise suspicions on his… Nightly activities and just pull an all-nighter. This wasn’t part of the plan. Was he in a hotel? In muggle London, again? How the hell had he checked in so late at night? Well, at least he was alone and not with a random stranger, but he really had to stop spending so much money on hotel rooms or else he would end up broke.

He only had a few memories of the past night, none of them involving Draco. Well, his plan had failed, but at least it seemed like he’d had a good time. He got out of bed, quickly got dressed, and checked out, memories of doing that with Draco in Paris rushing back to him. Merlin, he was fucked. He really missed him. But he tried to push these thoughts away and went to a dark alley to apparate to the Weasleys.

As Harry pushed open the front door of the Burrow, he was surprised to hear excited talking coming from the kitchen. It wasn’t common to hear people sounding so joyful in the house anymore, especially not in the morning. He walked to the kitchen, still a little drowsy and was welcomed by two very happy Ginny and Hermione and a defeated-looking Ron.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, sitting down at the table.

“Oh, Harry, you’re back!” Ginny exclaimed, grinning. “Look what arrived in the mail just now.” She handed him a letter from Hogwarts which he opened, surprised. McGonagall knew he wasn’t coming back, so why had he received a letter?

“Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is hosting a ball in honour of its successful reconstruction on August 20th starting at 8 o’clock. All of our students and important names of the British wizarding world are invited and are authorized to bring a plus-one. We would be glad to have you attend.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, headmistress.”

Harry sighed. Great, he was going to have to go back there, _again_. And for a dance. He didn’t even know how to dance.

“Come on, Harry, it will be fun. We’re gonna be able to see everyone again.” Hermione said.

“Yeah, it’s… It’s nice. Really. It’s a good idea, I’m just not thrilled to go back there, but it’ll be fine.” Harry forced a smile, not wanting to seem like a buzzkill. Ron apparently didn’t have a problem with that.

“It’s not nice, it’s stupid! A ball, seriously! Why don’t they just do a ceremony?” He protested.

“You’re just saying that because you can’t dance and don’t have any dress robes, Ronald.” Ginny retorted, smirking, as Hermione laughed beside her.

“No I’m not! And the letter says everyone’s invited, does that mean Slytherins are too? Because I’m not spending the evening with Death Eaters.”

“Don’t be a dick, Ron, they’re not all bad. Just because their parents are Death Eaters doesn’t mean they are too.” Harry said, frowning.

“Harry’s right, you shouldn’t be rude to them. Slytherin or not, we all went through a lot of shit last year and we shouldn’t waste our time judging one another.” Ginny added.

Ron’s ears turned a nice shade of tomato red, a sign that he was embarrassed, probably because he knew they were right and he was only making excuses to not dance.

“And you’ll finally get the chance to ask me to a dance before I accept the request of a very handsome foreign seeker.” Hermione told him, laughing, and surprisingly he chuckled as well.

“Alright, fine, I’ll go. But only because I don’t want you to dance with another bloke.” Ron said, and Hermione went to sit beside him, pecking his cheek. “Are you two gonna go together?” He asked Harry and Ginny as Hermione glared at him.

Ron knew very well that the two had broken up, but since he wasn’t always the most sensitive when it came to this type of stuff, he probably didn’t realize how uncomfortable his question could’ve seemed. Thankfully, since Harry and Ginny were still good friends, they didn’t mind. Harry laughed as Ginny reached over the table to punch her brother’s shoulder.

“No we’re not. I think I’m gonna take Luna.” Ginny responded. “And don’t give me that look, Hermione, you know we’re just friends.”

Had Harry missed something? Of course Ginny and Luna were just friends, why did she feel the need to defend herself?

He didn’t really pay attention to it, though, his thoughts going to Draco, wondering if he was going to come. It wasn’t very likely since he avoided public wizarding places in fear of getting hexed by everyone he walked past, but maybe his friends would convince him to go. Harry hoped they would, because this might be his only chance to talk to him and clear things up.

“I don’t think I’m going to take anyone.” Harry said, shrugging. There wasn’t anyone he wanted to take as a date, and he was going to get enough attention as it was.

“Every single girl is going to fight to get a dance with you anyway.” Ron responded and Harry snorted. He wasn’t wrong. Although dancing with a man wouldn’t bother him either… He really should tell his friends he also liked men one day. But it could wait. Just for now.

***

August 20 th  arrived pretty quickly, and so did all of its changes. Hermione’s parents had fully regained their memory a few days prior and she had moved back in with them for the end of summer break, since they needed someone to look after them to make sure their state of mind was stable, and she had missed them a lot. Ron was going to move in with George since it’d be easier for work, and Harry was thinking about moving out as well, but he didn’t really know where. The only place he could think of was Grimmauld Place.

He was open to the possibility, and it would imply a lot of renovations so it would keep him busy, but he still wasn’t really sure if it was a good idea. Part of him told him that this place was full of painful memories, it was the house where Sirius had suffered during his childhood, and everything about it made him think of his deceased godfather, but another part of him wanted to give the place a second chance. Maybe it could be like a rebirth. Erase all of the negativity it held to make it a home, a safe space. It was big, so he could even turn one of the rooms into a bedroom for Teddy for when he came to visit.

And it was all he had left of Sirius. He didn’t want to sell it to the first person who offered.

On the morning of August 20 th , Harry went on a short trip to Diagon Alley with Ron to buy new dress robes for the ball. Unfortunately, the place was packed, which got Harry a lot of attention. People rushed over to him to shake his hand, thank him, and he felt uncomfortable. He accepted it, offered them smiles, but he felt undeserving. He wasn’t the hero they thought he was. He was a wreck.

Finally, after Ron kindly told everyone to bloody leave him alone, they entered Madam Malkin’s shop and bought some plain black robes, pretty but nothing too fancy, and quickly apparated back to the Burrow. Harry hated going to Diagon Alley. It was a place he once thought of as magical and wonderful, and now it just reminded him that everyone saw him as some sort of supernatural being, when he saw himself as nothing more than a complete fraud.

“You alright, mate?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, fine. I just hate having all of this attention on me.” Harry signed and Ron patted his shoulder, an understanding smile on his lips.

“I understand. But I think they mostly get close to you to get a better look at me. I mean, I’m pretty handsome.” He said smugly.

Harry laughed, shaking his head. His friend always knew what to say to make him feel better.

As around 7:30, Harry and Ron put on their new robes and waited for Hermione, George and Ginny in the living room. George hadn’t been a student at Hogwarts anymore for a few years but everyone who had played a role in the war and especially the battle of Hogwarts had been invited as well, so, after some persuasion from Ginny, he had decided to come.

“Ginny! I just did your hair, stop touching it!”

The girls arrived to the living room, bickering like sisters, and soon after George arrived as well. Hermione was wearing a dark blue dress and Ginny a cream one. They both looked beautiful, and seeing the look on Ron’s face as he stared at his girlfriend, he was thinking the same thing. They all apparated to Hogsmeade together. From there, they could see dozens of people walking to the castle, and followed them.

Going back wasn’t easy. As Harry looked around, he noticed nearly every shop held so many memories. Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, where he’d had a disastrous first (and last) date with Cho in fifth year. Honeydukes, where him, Ron and Hermione went every time they came to Hogsmeade to buy tons of sweets. The Hog’s Head, where they’d had the first Army of Dumbledore meeting, and where Aberforth had protected them when they came back right before the final battle to go look for the remaining horcruxes. The Three Broomsticks, where they’d go drink butterbeer, chat, where Harry had discovered Sirius was his godfather, and in front of which Harry and Dumbledore had apparated after getting the fake horcrux and before the man’s death. Zonko’s joke shop, where they’d always buy stuff to pull pranks on each other. The Shrieking Shack, where Harry had first met Sirius, had learned that he was innocent, that Scabbers was Pettigrew, and that Remus was a werewolf. It brought back so many memories, both happy and heartbreaking. But he had loved this place dearly for many years, had broken so many rules just to go there in third year, and coming back still felt like coming home after a long day.

When Harry and his friends finally entered the school grounds, they were all amazed at how it looked, and sad at the same time. The grass had never been greener, Hagrid’s hut was bigger and the Quidditch pitch they could see from a distance had never looked so new. Even though Harry had participated in the reconstructions on the inside, he had never really paid attention to how everything now looked on the outside, especially considering most of this had been done after he’d left.

As everyone stared, the pain and suffering they were all feeling, reminiscing was so intense it could almost be touched. The last time most of them had been here, the courtyards were destroyed, lifeless or injured bodies were lying on the ground, people were screaming, fighting, dying. They’d never felt such pain before and going back made them feel it again, made them all go back to that night of May.

But it wasn’t all pain. This place held some of their best memories too, like going outside after completing their exams, Harry and Ginny going on evening walks when they’d gotten together, going to the lake to play with the Giant Squid. And seeing it grow back to life after it had been destroyed by these Death Eaters was like meeting an old friend they hadn’t seen in a while. The atmosphere felt warm, and light. Like all the darkness that had clouded the air for two years had disappeared at the same time as the bodies, blood, and wreckage.

Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand, holding on tightly as they moved towards the main entrance of the castle. Nobody was uttering a word in their small group, they didn’t need to. They knew what each other were thinking about.

When they entered the castle, however, it was different. People were staring at the reconstruction work, chatting excitedly, sharing stories… But Harry’s thoughts were interrupted when someone called their names.

“Harry! Ron! Guys, I’m so happy to see you.” Neville exclaimed as he walked towards them and gave a quick side hug to each of them. He looked good and healthy, though a small scar could be seen on his eyebrow, a reminder of his bravery. “Bill and Fleur are just over there.” He gave a nod towards the entrance of the Great Hall where, indeed, the married couple were talking with Professor Sinistra. “And I think I saw Percy and Penelope somewhere.” They chatted for some minutes, and then Neville left to go find Hannah Abbott.

Percy hadn’t been to the Burrow in a few weeks. Ron had told Harry he’d spent some time there right at the end of the war to make things right with his family again and apologize for pretty much just being a shitty son for the past few years, and had then gone back home to his girlfriend. Things were alright between him and the Weasleys now, and they still didn’t see each other too often, but their relationship was becoming strong again.

As they continued advancing towards the Great Hall, they met a lot of their other friends. Dean and Seamus had come together, as _romantic_ dates, and Harry was glad to see they’d finally admitted their feelings for one another. Everyone knew something had been going on between the two of them for years, except for them. Ginny joined Luna, and George met with Angelina, who he had been seeing on and off for a while. Everyone they walked past, whether he was familiar with them or not, gave Harry some sort of acknowledgement, a nod, a smile, and their eyes gleamed with admiration, which was pretty irritating since most of them had looked at him like he was insane during a lot of his time at Hogwarts, but he didn’t want to let this ruin his night.

Most of the people who had come were in fifth year and up, not a lot of younger people were there, except for a few earlier years and children of older students who had graduated but had fought in the battle and decided to come back to see the reconstructions with their own eyes. Everyone was dressed really nicely, with beautiful dresses or robes, and there were even a few people wearing muggle suits.

However, Harry’s increasingly good mood faded a bit when him, Ron and Hermione walked in the Great Hall to greet Bill and Fleur. His eyes landed on the exact place where he had killed Voldemort, and flashes of confronting the man who called himself the Dark Lord before having their final duel rushed back to him. His breathing sped up a little, and he tried to calm himself down, but Fleur seemed to notice because she squeezed his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay now, ‘Arry. He’s gone for good. You did the right thing.” She whispered softly.

“Yeah. I know.” He responded with a small smile.

He looked around and calmed down slightly as he watched the decorations in the Great Hall, that had been transformed into a ballroom for the occasion. It had never looked so splendid, not even for the Yule Ball. There were chandeliers floating all around the room, giving it a beautiful gold lighting, and the ceiling was a velvety black colour, dotted with stars. The five tables had disappeared, leaving only round tables encircling a dance-floor. There were already a few people sitting and chatting, and Harry’s eyes caught sight of silky platinum blonde hair that he could’ve recognized among millions of others.

Draco was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update! i was having a bit of writer's block but i'm back now. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed!


	7. the ball (part two)

Draco was here.

Harry stared at him, and for the first time in his life he felt relieved to see Draco Malfoy. He would finally be able to talk to him and figure out why the hell he had kissed him and left. He didn’t know how he’d be able to get him alone, but he would find a way. He always did.

“What are these pricks doing here?” Ron asked, following the direction of Harry’s eyes. For a second, Harry wondered what he was talking about, but then he noticed that Draco wasn’t alone at his table. He could also spot Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Millicent Bulstrode, someone he didn’t really know but he guessed could only be Daphne Greengrass, and Theodore Nott.

“Well, they are students after all.” Bill replied, turning his head to the table as well.

“They’re Death Eaters!” Ron protested. “They’re the enemy.”

“Oh come on, Ron. They’re not Death Eaters, Malfoy became one against his will and his charges were dropped and the others were never charged with anything. And the war is over, there’s no enemy.” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

Ron and Hermione looked at him as though they’d just seen a flying Blast-Ended Skrewt.

“The others I don’t mind, but since when do you defend Malfoy?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I spoke in his favour at his trial. And McGonagall wouldn’t have invited them if she thought they were dangerous.” Harry sighed. “We’ve been fighting for too long, guys.”

If Harry hadn’t been on their little trip with Malfoy, he would’ve never defended the Slytherins, but spending time with him had made him realize why they’d behaved the way they did in Hogwarts. Yes, Pansy was a bitch and she’d tried to sell him to Voldemort, and Harry didn’t like her, but he’d realized she’d only reacted like this to protect her friends. And Harry probably would’ve done the same if it meant protecting the people he loved.

Hermione looked at Harry suspiciously, which made himself shift on his feet uncomfortably. Why did she always look like she could read his thoughts?

“You’re right. We’ve all been through too much to continue these rivalries.” Fleur said, smiling. “Come on, Bill, let’s go to our seats.” She wrapped a perfectly manicured hand around her husband’s muscular arm and they went to sit at Percy and Penelope’s table. Charlie hadn’t been able to come, he was too busy with his dragons in Romania, and Harry suspected he’d rather spend time with them anyway.

Harry, Ron and Hermione took this as their cue to go sit as well, and went to Luna and Ginny’s table. Angelina and George were sitting with Lee Jordan and his girlfriend and Oliver Wood and a man who seemed to be his boyfriend. Harry was a bit surprised to see him with someone, not necessarily because it was a man but because he’d always thought Wood’s only interest in life was Quidditch.

When everyone was finally seated around the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall made her entrance and went to the middle of the dance-floor for her speech.

“My dear students, present and past, welcome to Hogwarts.” She looked around the room, offering one of her rare smiles. “It brings me an immense amount of joy to see all of you finally back in the castle. Firstly, I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming. I know how hard it must be for a lot of you to come back to this place, but I hope tonight’s event marks the day we can begin to form new and happy memories together, in this great place that was a home to you for years. Thank you to Professor Flitwick, Hagrid, Miss Turpin, Mr Goldstein, Mr McMillan and Mr Potter for their efforts in the reconstructions of the castle, and everyone else who participated in any way.” She made a brief pause as everyone applauded, and then her expression turned much more grave and serious.

“We have lost too much in the past few years as dark forces took over our world. We’ve had to fight and make hard choices. Our youngest students have lost a part of themselves they will never be able to get back – their innocence. Some of us have had to choose between our families and what was right, which is something no child should ever have to do.” She glanced at Draco’s table as she said those words. “And no matter the wrong choices some of us might have made – I have no doubt in my heart when I say that I am so proud of all of you, because we are now all standing here together, united.

“I am also proud of all of those who have fought valiantly and who lost their lives doing so. We wouldn’t have won this war without them, so I would like for all of us to take not a minute of silence, but a minute of applause in their memory.”

For a long minute, the Great Hall was so loud with cheers and applause Harry thought the wall would come crumbling down. He was applauding loudly, with tears in his eyes as he imagined his loved ones who weren’t here anymore applauding with them, from wherever they were now.

“Thank you.” Professor McGonagall said, and everyone slowly quieted down again. “Those we loved and lost would want us to be strong, and to live. And this is what tonight is about. Taking back what was taken from us – our joy, our happiness, our lives. I want tonight to be a new beginning for us, and for our school. I want your laughters to be so loud they will chase away all of the demons and hatred haunting these walls. I want us to live for all of those who don’t have that privilege anymore. Let the festivities begin.” The new headmistress announced, smiling, and suddenly a ton of food appeared on each of the table.

The feast went by pretty nicely, to Harry’s surprised. He had expected everyone to be gloomy and sad because of McGonagall’s speech but everyone seemed to have taken her words of new beginning to heart. They didn’t talk of the war, of course, but they chatted about Hogwarts and about what they were going to do in September. The girls seemed really excited to go back to school, and Harry was happy for them. He didn’t know what he was going to do with his life, but he was happy to see other people knew what they were doing.

There was some Firewhisky with the main course – that had been spelled so it could only be touched by people of age – and Harry was already feeling a bit buzzed, and apparently so did Hermione considering her red cheeks and the fact that she was overly touchy with Ron. It was sweet.

Once they were done with dessert, McGonagall announced the Weird Sisters, and Ginny immediately dragged Luna to the dance-floor. Harry looked around the room as a lot of people were standing up to go dance and caught Draco’s eyes looking straight at him. He maintained the eye contact and Draco suddenly stood up, going out of the Great Hall.

“I have to go to the loo.” Harry announced to his friends, who weren’t even really listening to him, and quickly got out as well, following Draco.

The blonde man was walking so fast he was almost running, and as Harry followed him, he realized where he was going. The Astronomy Tower. Of course he was, the dramatic prick. He climbed up the stairs behind Draco.

“Malfoy.”

“Potter.” Draco turned towards him, and Harry couldn’t help but notice how nice he looked. He was wearing very fancy all black dress robes with gold details embroidered on the sleeves. It changed from the usual touches of silver on his Slytherin clothes. “Why did you follow me?”

Was he stupid?

“Why do you think? I’ve been wanting to talk to you for weeks, Malfoy. You left without saying a word. Why did you go up here?”

Draco rolled his eyes and sat down close to the edge, Harry coming to sit beside him. The youngest took out a cigarette from the pack he had hidden in one of his pockets and offered Draco one, which he accepted. He lit up both of them with his wand and looked out at the lake.

“I wanted to see if you would follow me. I didn’t want to go up to you in the Great Hall and have your little guard hex me and I didn’t think you’d want to speak with me after… what happened.” Draco said, his tone cold. The usual facade he’d began to let go of when he was with Harry was back.

“Of course I wanted to speak with you. I mean…” Harry took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke in his lungs and alcohol running through his veins giving him courage. “I thought we were starting to become friends.”

“Friends?” Draco snorted. “The Saviour-Of-The-Entire-World, friends with a Malfoy? I don’t think Dumbledore’s fanclub would appreciate that.”

Harry frowned. Now he was starting to get angry. Draco knew Harry hated when he mentioned Dumbledore and he didn’t understand why he was being such a prick about it.

“Yeah, friends, you nitwit. At first I thought we’d stop speaking after going back home but then things started to change between us. But I guess I was wrong. And you know I don’t want to talk about Dumbledore.” Harry said coldly.

“Oh, don’t get all offended, Potter. I thought that too, but, well. I kissed you, so.”

Harry almost choked on his smoke, not expecting Draco to be so blunt. Merlin, there it was. The feeling of everything being so bloody surreal. But it was better than the feeling of everything being back to normal, if Harry was honest.

“Why aren’t you mad at me? I mean, you were kissed by a Death Eater. I’d be pretty pissed if I were you.”

“You were drunk. It’s fine. It just sucks that we don’t hang out anymore.”

Harry didn’t notice the flash of hurt in Malfoy’s eyes.

“The Prophet-”

“I don’t care about the stupid Prophet.” Harry interrupted him. “We were starting to become friends and it was fun going out together and I hate that we’re back to practically being strangers.”

Draco stared at Harry for a few seconds.

“Did you drink?” He finally asked.

“A bit.” Harry replied.

Draco chuckled humourlessly.

“Right. And are you going to say the same thing once sober? Because I don’t want to be friends with you if you’re only willing to acknowledge my existence when you’ve been drinking, Potter. That’s being drinking buddies, not friendship.”

Harry took a last drag out of his cigarette before vanishing it with a flick of his wand.

“I’m not just saying this because I’ve been drinking, Malfoy. I’m actually willing to try being friends with you. You’re not a bad person. You’re good company and you’re funny and I finally feel like my own fucking self when I’m with you.”

There was a long silence following Harry’s words, who internally cursed at himself for saying too much. Malfoy didn’t need to know that. Oh, Merlin, he needed to stop talking. He was screwed.

“I just don’t understand why you’d want to be friends with me.” Draco whispered. He sounded so small in that moment, and it broke Harry’s heart to imagine all the pain he must’ve gone through in the past years. “I know we were getting close in Paris but it’s different here. This is real life. Everybody despises me and I don’t understand why you don’t. They’ll think I have you under Imperio.”

“Nobody’s going to think that.”

“They are. I’m a Death Eater, Potter. You don’t know how the entire wizarding world treats me.”

“You’re not a Death Eater, you were-”

“A child, I know. It doesn’t change anything for them. I’m marked. Forever. It’s all that matters to them. They don’t care that I hate the Dark Lord with my entire heart and soul or that my father had to Crucio me countless times for me to agree to take the mark. They don’t care that I didn’t fight anyone during the battle. They don’t care that I’ve been educating myself and letting go of my family’s old ways of treating muggleborns and half-bloods. They don’t give a shit about it and it doesn’t stop them from hexing me anytime I dare go to Diagon Alley or any other place popular among wizards.”

It was Harry’s turn to get quiet now. He didn’t have any idea that all of this was happening to him. He knew Draco didn’t believe in the “old ways” anymore but he didn’t know his father used to bloody torture him. But he didn’t show him any pity, he knew how awful it felt to have people look at you like you were a helpless puppy.

“We should go back before people start to think you’ve been kidnapped.” Draco said, getting up.

Harry got up as well and followed him down the narrow staircase.

“Wait.” Harry said, and when Draco turned to him, he presented his hand for the blonde to shake. The parallel was striking. “I offer an official truce and civil relationship. And maybe a blossoming friendship if you’ll have it.” He offered Draco one of his rare sincere smiles.

“Took you long enough.” Draco said after hesitating for a few seconds and shook his hand, grinning slightly. “11-year-old me would be thrilled.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe if he wasn’t such a little prick I would’ve shaken his hand and went to Slytherin.” Harry teased, and they started walking again.

“Oh, please. You’re too Gryffindor for that.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“I’m much more of a Slytherin than you think, Malfoy. The Sorting Hat wanted to put me there but I asked it not to because I’d heard all Slytherins were evil dark wizards.”

“WHAT?” Draco practically screamed, stopping suddenly. “Are you fucking kidding me? We could’ve had the goddamn Chosen One in our house if it wasn’t for all of the prejudice your Gryffindor friends had against us? No. I refuse to believe it.”

Harry laughed at Draco’s reaction. Dramatic as ever.

“Well it’s true. But I had just been told the man who murdered my parents was a Slytherin so I asked the hat to put me somewhere else. If I’d known sooner that the snitch who told Voldemort where my parents were hiding was a Gryffindor, maybe I would’ve been in Slytherin.”

Malfoy looked absolutely stunned, like he had just received a Pertificus Totalus but without the whole falling to the ground part.

“Wow. I always thought you were the perfect example of a Gryffindor.”

“I’m full of surprises.” Harry chuckled, and they started walking again. Very slowly. Neither of them wanted to get back to the party because they knew they’d have to go on their separate ways. Harry didn’t care that others saw them interacting but he didn’t want Draco to have to face the repercussions. He had already been getting nasty looks, he didn’t want to make it worse for him.

“Do you ever regret it? Choosing Gryffindor over Slytherin.” Draco asked, startling Harry a bit. He had already asked himself that question, and he didn’t really know what the answer was.

“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve thought about it many times over the summer, and everything would just be so different. I would’ve had such a different life, different friends. And I don’t know how things would’ve turned out.”

Draco nodded understandingly and they finally arrived to the ground floor, just a few feet away from the Great Hall. There were a few people there, but nobody seemed to notice them.

“Go ahead.” Draco said, putting his hands in the pockets of his robes. “I’ll wait here for a bit.”

Harry gave him a small smile, waved and then went back to the Great Hall to find his friends. Hermione tapped Ron’s shoulder when she saw him and gave a nod in his direction. Harry sat down at their table.

“What?”

“You’ve been in the loo for like 30 minutes, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, a stern look on her face that reminded Harry a bit too much of McGonagall. “We thought something happened to you.” She sniffed the air, her nose wrinkling. “Have you been smoking again? I thought you stopped!”

“Merlin, Hermione, calm down, will you? I was just getting some air and smoked one cigarette, it’s not a big deal.” Harry sighed. He knew his friends just wanted the best for him but it was suffocating sometimes.

“They’re bad for your health. And for your teeth.” Hermione argued, crossing her arms on her chest.

“‘Mione, leave him alone, it’s fine.” Ron said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s dance.” He took her hand and she went with him, her frown evaporating instantly. ‘Let’s dance’ was a sentence Harry never thought he’d hear Ron pronounce.

Harry laid back in his chair, watching his friends dance while sipping on his Firewhisky. He could see a lot of his loved ones having fun, and he was genuinely happy for them. They didn’t even seem to be paying attention to Draco, which was a good thing since Harry now knew how much shit he got when he simply put a foot outside. He could also see Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass dancing very inappropriately, making him laugh. It felt good to see everyone look so carefree after all they had been through, even the people he disliked. Nobody deserved going through a war.

He could also see some people he didn’t know, and some older students who had played a role in the war dancing with their kids. It was sweet, and it reminded Harry of Teddy. He was a bit disappointed Andromeda had decided not to come, but he didn’t blame her. He could understand how painful it would’ve been for her to go to the place where her child had passed.

Harry was getting a bit bored, and he hated dancing, so he took his drink and went outside. He looked around a bit and saw George sitting on a bench, so he went to sit beside him.

“Hey.” He said, taking out another cigarette. One more couldn’t hurt. “Where’s Angie?”

“Inside with Lee and Oliver. I needed a break.” George answered, loosening his tie. Harry stared at his hand for a few seconds and looked away. Realizing he liked men also made him realize just the amount of blokes he had been attracted to at Hogwarts but had mistaken for friendship or admiration.

“You alright?”

“Fine.” George sighed, looking at the ground. “It just hurts coming back here, you know? Every bloody thing makes me think of him.”

Harry rubbed George’s back as he put his face in his hands. He knew George kept to himself a lot and never let himself cry so he wanted to be there for him.

“We were always together and everything I did here was with him. I can barely think of any memory at Hogwarts where he wasn’t with me. Every happy memory I have is with him. I can’t even create a bloody Patronus anymore. And I know it hurts mum and dad when I’m with them ‘cause all they see is Fred.”

Harry swallowed harshly, trying to fight back his tears. It tore him apart to see his friend so destroyed over this.

“He’s right here with you, George. He’s watching over you and he’s not going anywhere, I promise.”

“I know. I just try so hard to be strong because I know he would beat the shit out of me if he saw me being sad.” George chuckled, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his robes.

“I’m so sorry.” Harry whispered. “If I just had been quicker-”

“Harry, don’t.” George took Harry’s hands in his own and looked at him in the eyes. “It’s not your fault. You saved all of us. You did everything you could. Don’t blame yourself. I know you feel guilty but it’s _not_ your fault.”

“Thank you.” Harry tried to smile but it mostly came out as a grimace and he hugged George quickly, tapping his back. “You’re going to be okay. I know it’s hard and it hurts but it gets easier with time.”

George smiled back at him and got up.

“Let’s go back, yeah?”

Harry nodded and got up as well, and they went back to the Great Hall together. Harry suddenly felt much lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn’t realized until now how much he had needed George’s forgiveness. He went back to sit at his table and put his empty glass down. His sight was getting blurry and he didn’t want to be wasted in front of everybody or else the Prophet would have a field day.

The rest of the night went by in a blur of conversations, dancing and laughter. At one point, Luna had dragged Harry to the dance-floor and forced him to dance with her and Ginny, which had actually been quite fun. He had talked to a lot of his former classmates, and with some younger students he didn’t really know. He had even chatted with Blaise Zabini for a few minutes, and the man was actually quite nice. He wasn’t the stuck-up jerk Harry had expected him to be.

After McGonagall had practically thrown them out of the castle, they had all gone home at around 2am, and as Harry went to bed, he realized he was finally ready to move to Grimmauld Place. He didn’t know what had changed during that one night, but he had a gut feeling that this was the right thing to do, and of course Harry, being the Gryffindor he was, always listened to his instinct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i cried writing the conversation between george and harry. hope you enjoyed<3 don't forget to leave a small comment if u want, it always makes me so happy to read feedbacks!!


	8. 12 grimmauld place

Waking up late on September 1 st definitely felt weird to Harry. He had always been so used to getting up early to go to the train station, and that had been the best day of the year for him since he was 11. But for the second time now, he wasn’t going to Hogwarts for the year.

Only two days prior, Harry had moved into  12  Grimmauld Place. He didn’t have a lot of stuff, so moving had been relatively quick. He knew Mrs. Weasley was sad to see him leave, since the house would now be very empty, but he had to do this. He needed to get his life together and he couldn’t do that if he stayed  under her care at the Burrow. He needed to have a life of his own, and that started with a place of his own.

Living there wasn’t very fun for now. Harry spent his entire days cleaning the place, since it had been empty since he, Ron and Hermione had had to flee a year ago. Only a few Aurors had come by over the summer to make sure Death Eaters weren’t using it as a hiding spot – thankfully, they weren’t.

So, on the third day, Harry r olled out of his godfather’s old bed at 10am  after a full night of nightmares and spent the rest of the morning cleaning up. Kreacher had been working in Hogwarts for months now, so of course there were layers of dust gathering everywhere, and the place didn’t have the best smell. There weren’t a lot of cursed items anymore since the Order had cleaned up most of it back when the h ouse was used as  a Headquarters, so at least he could roam around without the fear of getting attacked by silverware.

The ground floor,  entrance and kitchen w ere already mostly clean and tidy, and now Harry had to get to the stairs. He was determined to get rid of the horrid screaming painting of Walburga Black,  and he knew there must’ve been a way. There was a solution to everything, and he didn’t care if he had to spend months working on it. He had to make the portrait of this awful woman disappear from his house.

Harry’s cleaning charms were getting much better, so it didn’t take long for him to get rid of all the dust and cobwebs gathering in the staircase. He had managed to vanish the horrible house-elf heads mounted on the walls with a strong vanishing spell. Kreacher would probably hate him if he found out, but Harry was tired of having these creepy faces staring at him each time he got to the top floors. He had also gotten rid of the dark green  stair carpet, he’d always thought it looked ugly.

When all of this was done, he took a quick break to eat a sandwich. Harry still had a hard time eating, but the sight of food didn’t make him feel sick anymore, so that was a good step forward.

Afterwards, he got to working on the portrait. He tried simple cutting charms, trying to get it off the wall by cutting the wallpaper it was glued on, but to no avail. He threw all kinds of hexes at the painting, even getting into a screaming match with Sirius’ lovely mother, he even tried to Sectumsempra her, but none of it had any effect. At one point, the sky outside was starting to get dark, and Harry was getting increasingly frustrated. He ended up sending an Incendio at it, which was the only thing  that managed to make at least a little harm to the painting. It was still there, but there was now a huge scorch mark in the centre of it, which only managed to piss off Walburga even more, but at least it showed Harry that he would be able to get rid of it eventually. 

All of his muscles were aching, so the man decided it was time to call it a day. He closed the curtain on Walburga’s face, finally shutting her up, and went to the s itting room. It still looked dull and grim, but at least it was clean and free of any unwanted creatures. There were some things here Harry wanted to keep, like the floors and some of the furniture, but all of these green decorations made him feel sick. It was all so dark and it only reminded him of how much Sirius hated t hese colours .

Hermione had recommended him a few books on spells  for house keeping and decorating – he had no idea how she knew about t hose , but she knew everything – s o he had begun to study them. They were complicated, but he was starting to get the gist of it.  It would probably take him a few weeks to make the  gigantic  house look decent, but it was worth the effort. He was hoping that Sirius, wherever he was, was proud of him for making his childhood home a pleasant place to live in.

H arry was just sitting down on the couch when he was startled by a knock at the door. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so he got up and went to the front door, firmly gripping his wand.  He probably should’ve thought about making the house untraceable.

“Who’s this?”

“It’s Malfoy.” The familiar voice responded.

Harry’s eyes went wide and he opened the door, surprised.

“What are you doing here?” He asked. He hadn’t even expected Draco to write to him so quickly, so he was very surprised to see him there. “And how did you know where I live?”

“Simple tracking spell. You should work on your protective wards, Scarhead.” Malfoy smirked and walked past Harry, entering the house. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

“If you’ve come here to insult me-”

“I haven’t.” Draco interrupted him, and as Harry paid closer attention to his face, he could see something was… Not necessarily wrong, but odd. He sighed and led Draco to the sitting room, sitting on the couch as the other man took a seatt in an armchair.

“What’s going on?” Harry placed his feet up on the coffee table. “It’s getting quite late.”

“I wanted to know if you’ve had news from your… Gryffindor friends who went back to school.” Draco asked, crossing his legs. No matter the situation, his demeanour always made him seem like a snob, but Harry didn’t really mind.

“I haven’t, actually. Why?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. Why was Draco asking him that? And why did he have to come all the way to Harry’s house for this?

“It seems like things are pretty bad there.” Draco’s face was like stone, not reflecting any emotions. Harry wasn’t really used to seeing him like this anymore. The Draco he had gotten to know let lose a lot more, but this one seemed upset.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, frowning in confusion. “Everything seemed fine when we were at the ball. The school is perfectly renovated and I don’t understand what could be-”

“I’m not talking about the castle, I’m talking about the students.” Draco interrupted, sighing in obvious frustration. “I’ve received a letter from a very upset Pansy about how everyone is being arseholes to the Slytherins. Not just her – she’s a bitch, she kind of deserves it. But the little ones too. And I was wondering if…” Draco bit down on his lips, seeming a bit nervous. “I was wondering if you could do me a small favour.”

“Sure, but – what? What are people doing, exactly? It’s only the first day!” Harry’s frown only got deeper. Why the hell were people attacking Slytherins? Majority of them were completely innocent.

“A few students got hexed. A third-year and a fifth-year Slytherin were attacked on the train by Hufflepuffs. There were only a few minor hexes involved, but if this is already happening on the first day… I was wondering if you could write to a few of your friends. Just to tell them to keep an eye open. Slytherins are very protective of one another but they don’t have eyes everywhere. Getting hexed is nothing new for us but I’m afraid the upper classmen will take out their frustration on the little ones.” Draco sighed once again and looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry for coming over instead of just writing to you but, yeah. I thought you could maybe help. And I wanted to see you anyway.”

Although Harry was rather alarmed by Draco’s revelations, he didn’t show it and just gave him a comforting smile.

“I’ll write a letter to Hermione. I’m sure it’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks. Um, just don’t tell her you heard it from me. Make it seem casual. If Pansy hears I’ve talked about this to a Gryffindor, she’ll have my head.” Draco said, chuckling.

“She seems like such a nice person.” Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s the most loyal friend you’ll ever have. She just has a temper. And she’s kind of mean but I am too, so I guess that’s why we’re so close.”

“And you’re both gay as hell.” Harry added, making Draco laugh.

“That, too.”

The two men fell into a few seconds of comfortable silence and Harry kept sneaking glances at Draco when he  thought he  wasn’t looking. He’d never noticed before, probably because he was too busy hating the other man’s guts and planning his expulsion from Hogwarts or getting wasted, but Draco was really good looking. His pointy features, which Harry had often made fun of, were actually very pretty and were what made Draco’s face so unique. His high cheekbones seemed very sharp, and his lips were small but not thin. There was a sort of harmony to his face and Harry would be lying if he said it left him i ndifferent .

“If you enjoy staring at me so much, Potter, you could simply ask for a picture, you know.” Draco said with a smirk, breaking the silence.

Harry felt his cheeks and ears flush but he played it off, trying to seem nonchalant about it.

“You wish. I was just looking at the growing pimple in the middle of your forehead, you git.”

“Rather that than a hideous lightning bolt, Scarhead.” Draco laughed, and Harry joined in.

During these past months, he’d found out he loved laughing with Malfoy. His laugh was contagious, and Harry wished he would laugh more. He understood why the blonde didn’t laugh much anymore, considering all of what had happened to him, but it still made Harry’s heart ache. And it made him realize just how much everyone had suffered during the war, even those who had made some bad choices.

This didn’t mean he had compassion for Death Eaters – he hated every single one of them with a burning passion. But Draco was an exception. When Harry had had visions of what Voldemort had been seeing during the war, he’d seen Draco torturing people, and he didn’t think he could ever forget the look of sheer horror on the boy’s face. Because that’s what they both had been. Boys. Not men ready for war.

“You want something to drink?” Harry asked

“Please. I’ve been waiting for you to ask.” Draco answered, smirking.

“C’mon.”

Harry got up,  telling the other man to be quiet as they walked past Walburga’s portrait, and led Draco to the parlour on the first floor, which had a well-furnished liquor cabinet. He hadn’t had anything to drink in over a week and could  definitely  use the relaxation. He didn’t really think he had a drinking problem, he didn’t feel the need to be intoxicated  after all  – he just liked having a few drinks to unwind once in a while.

H arry got two glasses from a cabinet and then turned to Draco.

“What can I get you today, sir?” He asked in a fake posh accent.

Draco laughed, rolling his eyes.

“I feel like you’re mocking me, Potter. I’ll have a Firewhisky, thank you very much.” He responded and went to sit in an armchair.

Harry filled up two glasses with the finest Firewhisky and went to sit on the chair next to Draco’s, setting the glasses down on the pedestal table between their two chairs. He was still getting accustomed to the house and this wasn’t a room where he had spent a lot of time in before, so he didn’t quite feel at home yet.

“It feels weird to see you in my mother’s family’s home.” Draco said as he took a sip of his drink, looking around. Harry hadn’t even thought about that.

“Right. I always forget you’re related to my godfather.” Harry replied. “It feels weird for me too. Have you ever been here before?”

“Once, when I was little. I don’t remember much, just that I was absolutely traumatized by the house-elf heads in the staircase. Did you remove them?”

Harry laughed, picturing a small Draco – which just looked like him now but much smaller – coming face to face with this horrifying sight.

“Yeah. Kreacher will kill me if he comes back here, it was his dream to have his head displayed there once he died. Completely nuts, that one.”

“Why is he not here now?” Draco asked curiously. “You set him free?”

“No, no, of course not. He knows too much about a lot of pretty private stuff and he’d be really upset anyway. He’s working in the Hogwarts kitchens, led the elves in the battle and all. He might be a bit crazy and all from being alone in this house for so long but he’s a good elf if you’re nice to him.”

The two men continued to talk about anything and everything and Harry realized he truly didn’t need alcohol to enjoy Draco’s presence. He had only had a small dose of Firewhisky and yet there they were, enjoying each other’s company, talking like they didn’t have such a tumultuous relationship back in school. Seeing this made the last shred of Harry’s doubts about their blossoming friendship fade away.

“Potter?”

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts by Draco’s voice.

“Yeah?”

“I think… I think maybe there’s a few things we should talk about. If you actually want us to be friends.”

“I think I’ve already showed you multiple times I do want to be friends with you-”

“I know.” Draco interrupted him. “And I don’t doubt it. I want to be friends with you too. I like it when we spend time together, and I’m not only doing it out of spite for my father or whatever. You’re decent when you don’t have an army of Gryffindors pressuring you into a war, Scarhead.”

Harry chuckled at the insult, figuring he would have to get used to it.

“I want to talk about the war. About everything that happened. If we don’t talk about it, we’ll end up going back to hating each other. Ignoring it isn’t healthy and if you’re not ready to talk about it with me, I understand. But there’s a lot of things that need to be said. It’s another reason why I came tonight.” Draco said, putting his glass down.

Harry sighed heavily. He knew this was coming, but it didn’t mean he was ready to have that talk. However, he knew it was for the best. He could see how much Draco had changed, but it wasn’t enough to build a truce.

“I guess you’re right.”

And so they talked.

They talked for hours and hours, and even then a lot of things still remained unsaid. 

Harry talked to Draco about why he’d had to kill Voldemort himself, about how he had felt manipulated by Dumbledore’s plan, about how dirty he felt e ach time he’d  accidentally  enter Voldemort’s mind, about how guilty he felt for what happened to so many of his loved ones. He didn’t tell him about how he had actually died that night, or about the  amount of trauma the war had left him.

Draco talked to Harry about how his father had forced him to join the Death Eaters to get back the Malfoy glory, about how Voldemort had set him up with hard missions only to punish Draco when he’d fail, about how he’d felt standing face to face with Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower that night. He didn’t tell him about the amount of abuse he’d faced, or about how he’d fled the family home because he couldn’t bare seeing his mother becoming only a ghost of the woman she once was.

The conversation was hard. Probably one of the hardest either one of them had ever had, but once it was done, the two men felt like a huge weight had been lifted off their shoulders. Harry had never quite understood why Draco hadn’t just gone against his father’s wishes, and Draco had never understood Harry’s lack of survival instinct. But now that they had each other’s perspective, it was different, and Harry felt closer to Draco than ever. Getting into the subject was tough, but talking to Draco felt so easy and natural.  He really did feel like the blonde was one of the only people to deeply understand him.

“You know, I’ve never told anyone most of this.” Draco said quietly, his voice becoming hoarse from all the talking. “Not even Blaise or Pansy. I hope you feel honoured.”

H arry grinned. He knew now that this was Draco’s way to shield himself, but he didn’t bring it up.

“I haven’t really talked to my friends about all of this either. I know they blame me for shutting myself off when I’m not listening but they never asked, so.” Harry shrugged.

“I get it. We don’t talk about it a lot, either. But it’s how Slytherins work, I guess. We’ll protect each other through thick and thin but if no one talks about the issue first, no one else is going to bring it up.”

H arry nodded, and they settled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, both gathering their thoughts.

“Thank you, Malfoy.” Harry turned to look at Draco. “For trusting me. And for listening.”

Draco smiled at him softly and shrugged.

“Someone’s got to hear you whine and I’m a very generous person so I figured I’d make the sacrifice.” Draco chuckled. “But, seriously – thank you, too. I was already very surprised when you defended me at my audience and I never thought you’d actually be willing to listen to my side of the story.”

Harry smiled back at him and Draco got up.

“I should probably go home, now.”

Harry led him to the entrance of the house, handing him his coat. He was really glad Draco had decided to visit him, and he hoped these visits  w ould become more of a frequent habit.

“Goodnight.” Harry said, opening the front door.

“Goodnight, Scarhead.” Draco replied before disapparating.

Harry stared at the spot Draco had just vanished from before closing the door again, and going to Sirius’ old room – which was now his.

For the first time in weeks, he slept for 8 hours s traight and barely had any nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, sorry for the late update! i hope you enjoyed this chapter<3 ily


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